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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805400">the pilgrimage is about to begin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpobsessed/pseuds/pulpobsessed'>pulpobsessed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Sexually Transmitted Diseases</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:15:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>80,731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpobsessed/pseuds/pulpobsessed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Azimio Adams turned his back on his best friend - Dave. Two years later, he is given the chance to reestablish that friendship by helping Dave at the darkest moment of his life. This is the story of one man who discovers the true meaning of friendship, love and brotherhood.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adam Crawford/Kurt Hummel, Azimio Adams/Original Female Character, David Karofsky/Original Male Character(s), Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky, Kurt Hummel/David Karofsky (past), Kurt hummel/David Karofsky (implied)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Author's Note</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Author's Note.</p><p> </p><p>This fic was inspired by this amazing work of art (https://albaharu.tumblr.com/post/626443051957616641/day-6-kid-ficpre-glee-pre-glee-but-also-uh-oh). Thank you to albaharu for entrusting me with your work and letting me run with it as I wandered the strange and beautiful world of Dave and Az's friendship.</p><p> </p><p>This is perhaps the most deeply personal thing I've ever written. I hope you enjoy this little fragile thing I'm putting out there in the world. Thanks for reading.</p><p> </p><p>Warnings: this story contains homophobic language, discussions of suicide, discussions of sexual activity, and discussion of HIV infection and treatment - if these are triggers for you, please be aware. </p><p>This is for Brian - the Dave to my Az. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. \Before/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on Dave! Gimme the ball!” Az pushed at his best friend in the whole world, scrambling to try and grab the football, but he was giggling too hard and Dave was stronger than him. Dave was always stronger, he was the strongest guy in the world! </p><p>Dave pushed back, keeping Az at arm’s length. “No! You gotta take it!” Dave heaved in laughter. “And stop tickling me! That’s cheating.” </p><p>“Is not! You just don’t know how to play!” </p><p>“Az!” Dave jumped back, his shoes sliding slightly in the muddy grass, “I watch football with dad all the time, and they never tickle each other!” </p><p>“Do so!” </p><p>“You’re an idiot!” Dave turned and ran across the garden, his laughter rising in the summer air. “Come on! Try and tackle me!” </p><p>Az charged after his best friend, hunkering down and bracing his shoulders - just like he saw on TV - so that when he slammed into Dave, they both went sprawling into the grass. He could feel the mud and dirt scuffing his jeans, and he heard Dave give a yelp as they collided. Using the distraction, he grabbed the ball and rolled off of Dave and onto his back. Laughing in victory at claiming his prize.</p><p>Dave sat up. “Dofus! You’re so heavy!” Dave pulled the leg of his shorts up to examine his muddy knee, he frowned. “Damn - I think I scraped my knee, I’m bleeding.” </p><p>Az sat up, worried, fear coloring his face. “Want me to go get my mom?”</p><p>Dave just laughed it off - he always did, he was that strong! “Nah. Don’t worry, it's not bad. ‘Sides, I got you here to look after me! Let’s keep playing.” </p><p>“Kay. Dave...I’m really glad you’re my friend!” </p><p>“Me too! Hey! Wanna go upstairs to my room - I got new comics this week!” </p><p>“Yeah! You’re awesome!” </p><p>“So are you, come on - I bet my mom has chips.” Dave pushed himself up from the grass and broke out in a run towards the house, where his father and Az’ mom were watching from the kitchen window. “I call dibs on the new issue of Batman!” </p><p>Az laughed and jumped up, racing after Dave. “Dave! We’re gonna be friends forever - but only if you let me read Spiderman first!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. \Old values, sterile and infantile phobias - pt. 1/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Get used to me, I am not getting used to anyone.” I shouted my laughter to the stars.”<br/> - Franz Fanon</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>{February 2012}</strong>
</p><p>Az kicked his shoes off, trying to aim at the small shoe rack in the front entranceway of his house, sadly he missed it by about a mile and watched as his left sneaker sailed into the living room. Damn. Well, whatever, his mom wouldn’t be home for hours, so he could just pick it up later - after he heated up a couple pizza pockets. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the hooks by the door, carefully smoothing down the cool leather of his letterman - one of his most prized possessions. </p><p>Then, grabbing his backpack, he headed into the kitchen, stopping short when he saw his mom sitting at the table. Her face was wet with tears and she was clutching a picture frame. </p><p>“Mom? What are you doing home? I thought you were working late at the hospital tonight?”</p><p>He watched as she seemed to almost struggle to lift her eyes away from the picture. The pain and sadness on her face almost made him turn to flee in retreat. Something had happened. Something bad. </p><p>He vaguely remembered seeing this much pain on her face once before, when he was four and his dad died overseas in Afghanistan. But that was before Lima, that was before he could remember anything serious - all he could remember was a sense of infinite sadness in his house. Except for his mom’s eyes. The pain and hurt in his mom’s eyes...that he remembered. And those same eyes were looking at him now. </p><p>“Mom? What’s wrong?”</p><p>She smiled and pointed at the chair across from her. “Az, sweetie, I need you to sit down. I have something to tell you about Dave.” </p><p>Az immediately felt this burning sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. Dave was a fag - he could go fuck himself for all Az cared. He practically spat, “What about him?” He didn’t bother hiding his disgust. </p><p>His mom looked surprised and frowned deeply at him. “Sit down, please.” </p><p>Az dropped his bag on the floor next to the kitchen counter and sat across from her. </p><p>“Az, this might be really hard to hear. But...God. I can’t even say it...He...god...he tried to hurt himself today.” </p><p>“Hurt himself?” Az was confused. What did that mean? Dave was always hurting himself - he was a clumsy fool. When they were kids, Dave was always scuffed up - knees scraped and bloody, elbows bruised, face cut - so why was that news?</p><p>His mom looked back at the photo in her hands, fresh tears running down her face. She shook her head, “Az, he tried to kill himself.” </p><p>It was like a two-by-four hitting him over the head. His eyes grew large and his mouth morphed into a perfect “o” shape. He leaned back in his chair and blinked rapidly. “What?” And at the edge of his consciousness, the first tiny whisper of guilt started creeping in - a voice that he would grow to hate. </p><p>“His dad called - apparently yesterday...he...oh Az! I went online and saw his facebook and the vicious awful things people have said...it was too much for him, so he…” His mom broke down sobbing. She dropped the picture and buried her face in her hands. </p><p>He just sat there - he could see the photo was of the two of them - him and Dave - playing football as kids. They’d been maybe seven. His first instinct was to run - run to Dave as fast as he could. To protect his friend. To save his friend. To get to Dave and then show all those assholes what happens when you fuck with Az’s best friend. </p><p>And then he remembered…<em>”Az, please listen to me! I’m the same guy I always was - I’m still your best friend, just because I’m gay doesn’t change that…” </em></p><p>
  <em>“I don’t got no fag friends!” </em>
</p><p>He felt his mom’s warm hand on his - he looked up. She was staring at him. “Azimio?”</p><p>Oh, she’d been saying something. “Yeah, ma?”</p><p>“I asked if you’d like me to drive you to the hospital? He’s on suicide watch, so they might not let  you see him, but since I’m a nurse there, I might be able to sneak you in for like a minute.” </p><p>Then that tiny voice whispered in his head...</p><p>{see Dave...go to Dave...help Dave…}</p><p>He shook his head, clearing whatever the fuck that was. No, Dave is a fag. Dave was not someone Az wanted anything to do with! He shook his head. “Na, ma. Dave and I aren’t friends anymore.” </p><p>“What? Why?” She looked horrified at this. </p><p>“Just wasn’t working out.” He kinda shrugged - trying to be nonchalant about it, trying not to let the anger that was burning in his chest come out. Anger at Dave for being...that way. Anger at himself for hating. Anger at the world for the injustice of...everything. </p><p>“Az, sweetie. Your best friend just tried to take his own life, I don’t care what fight you two are having - you need to go see him. Right now.” </p><p>“No.” That anger peaked out, he struggled to keep it at bay. </p><p>“Az…”</p><p>And then, the anger boiled over. “I don’t have friends who are fags!” Az stood up - knocking the chair over - he turned, picked up his bag and walked out of the room. He ran up the stairs and bolted into his room, slamming the door behind him - throwing the lock he and Dave had installed last year. He could hear his mom yelling at him - he <em>didn’t</em> care. Dave Karofsky was not his friend. He didn’t care if Dave had tried to kill himself or if he had run away or whatever...Az did not have friends who were gay. They were wrong. They were bad. They were...inhuman. And he wanted nothing to do with it. </p><p>His mom was outside his door now, pounding on it. Screaming - she was full on mad now. He sat down on his bed, covering his ears. “Go away mom. I’m not seeing him!” The anger was raging now - flowing out of him and washing over everything around him. </p><p>He looked over at his desk - which Dave had always said was like the bermuda triangle of desks, for how easily Az managed to lose anything he put on it. Sitting next to his computer was a photo of him and Dave at the Championship game from last year. Just after the half-time show, with smiles as big as the world. </p><p>Was Dave already gay then? Had he been gay that whole time? Was that why he hated the whole idea of dancing and shit...was he afraid his faggyness would come out? </p><p>Az stood up and flipped the photo over - hiding it from view. He didn’t need his faggy ex-friend staring at him. </p><p>His mom had stopped pounding on his door, returning to the kitchen, and he could hear her talking on the phone downstairs. But her voice rang in his ear - “Az, he tried to kill himself.” And then, that little voice somewhere in the back of his brain started whispering again - telling him that he was wrong. That he was making a mistake. </p><p>{Dave needs you Dave needs you Dave needs you}</p><p>Setting his face in a hard scowl, he ground out “I don’t have friends who are fags.” He would say it as often as he needed to. He would say it until everyone around him - including himself - believed it! It was true. He didn’t give a shit what people said - he didn’t care that people thought it was wrong, it was right for him. </p><p>He lay down on his bed - his brain filled with thoughts of hurt and hate. Thoughts of Dave - and the anguish in his friend’s voice. Thoughts of what was happening to Dave right now - where was he in the hospital? Was he being looked after? Who was there with him…</p><p>{should be you should be you should be you] </p><p>...No! Dave had made his fucking bed! He <em>didn’t</em> give a shit! He didn’t! </p><p>Az stared up at the ceiling in his room, he had a poster of Nicki Minaj hanging up there - cover art from Pink Friday and it was the sexiest thing Az had ever seen. Dave had helped him put it  up a couple months ago - even though he complained at having to help fill Az’s spank bank. </p><p>As punishment for that remark, Dave had to listen to Pink Friday twice and sit through A’s lecture about why it was such a good album. </p><p>Az couldn’t help but smile while Dave sat on the floor, humming along to Fly - <em>“Of course I know this song! Rhianna is awesome dude - and if you say otherwise, you’re a fucking idiot!”</em>  </p><p>He rolled onto his side, and stared at the door, he could hear his mom moving around - she was crying. She knocked, “Az - I’m leaving to see Paul. Please think about how awful your friend is feeling right now...think about how badly he needs you and about how often he was there for you. Please Az...I don’t...just please.” </p><p>He stayed silent. He didn’t care. He didn’t care! He didn’t care about Dave or about Dave’s dad...</p><p>{Oh god...Mr. K! Dave is Mr. K.’s whole world…}</p><p>He fought against thoughts of the gentle and quiet man who often treated him like a second son. The way Paul Karofsky would give him firm hugs on his birthday or on the anniversary of his dad’s death. The way Paul would always remember that he liked a little extra sour cream on his chilli or the way he would always have an extra box of creamsicles, just because Az liked them, even if Dave thought they were gross.  </p><p>And how Paul beamed with pride when Dave won the championship last year or how happy Paul had been when Dave got another A+ in math or whatever dorky subject. He fought against thoughts of how tightly Paul would hug Dave after the divorce. Oh…</p><p>No…</p><p>The divorce…</p><p>Dave’s mom. </p><p>For a moment, Az almost bolted upright and dashed to the door - desperate to go protect Dave against that woman...a woman who only cared about one thing in life - God. Oh no! Dave’s mom was so religious and she made Az’s hatred of gays look like child’s play. He should….</p><p>{she’ll hurt him she’ll hurt him she’ll hurt him}</p><p>...No! This was not his problem! It was not! He didn’t want anything to do with this. He didn’t care! Someone else would take care of Dave now. This wasn’t Az’s problem anymore. Dave. Paul. The woman who gave birth to Dave… all of them, they weren’t his problem. He wanted nothing to do with that whole faggy business. </p><p>Az just lay there - staring at the wall. Staring at nothing. Staring at a photo...at a friend...he could no longer see. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. \Old values, sterile and infantile phobias - pt. 2/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Man is human only to the extent to which he tries to impose himself on another man in order to be recognized by him.”</p>
<p>- Franz Fanon</p>
<hr/>
<h3>{June 2012}</h3>
<p>Azimio slammed his locker shut and eyed the suspiciously empty hallway - it was way too fucking quiet this morning, which was weird since school was essentially over and people had been pretty much partying in the halls for the last couple days. But now, they’re nearly empty. Not that he cared - he was barely here anyways. </p>
<p>Az showed up for classes, left at lunch to eat at Arby’s or Taco Bell, classes again in the afternoon and then hightailed it out of there as soon as the bell went. He didn’t need to be here - he didn’t want to be here anymore than necessary. Now that he was rolling solo, it was easier to just come and go as he pleased. He preferred to be alone - made things less complicated. </p>
<p>{alone alone alone alone}</p>
<p>He grunted at the annoying whisper that seemed to plague him every fucking second of every fucking day. He was pretty good at ignoring it by now, but it was always fucking there. Always fucking at the edge of his brain - teasing him, whispering harshly and reminding him. Fucker.</p>
<p>Until this year, he and Dave would’ve fucked around after school - hitting up the weight room, or goofing off on the football field, or even hunting down some fucking asshole losers to remind them of their place in the food chain. But then Dave went and got weird (and gay) - he went and got obsessed with that fag…</p>
<p>{bad word bad word bad word} </p>
<p>And Az had worried for his best friend. Dave got...mean. Meaner than he’d ever seen him. Meaner than when his cat died or even when his mom left - Dave went crazy. He stopped talking to Az, stopped everything...except hating. He stopped being Az’s best friend.  </p>
<p>{best friend best friend best friend}  </p>
<p>Then that fag left and Dave started being Dave again. He calmed down a little - was back to his geeky self - still angry though, but just a little less. So Az calmed down - he let his guard down. Then it all went to shit. </p>
<p>That bitch Santana got Dave to go crazy with the whole protective services bullshit and Dave started acting even weirder. He cried, like all the time. He started hanging around Hummel and he just seemed weirder than usual. Then prom happened and Dave dropped off the map - he became a non entity at school. Appearing for classes and then disappearing almost immediately - he ignored all of Az’s calls. So Az just stopped trying eventually, which went against everything in their best friend code. So yeah, some of this was on Az...not all of it, but some of it. </p>
<p>Fuck! What was it about this fucking empty hallway that seemed to give his fucking brain permission to think about this shit. He spent too much energy {avoiding} thinking about Dave already! But, fuck it, guess we’re going down that road, huh?</p>
<p>When they were fourteen, Dave’s mom left - she moved away with some new guy, some church bible thumper fuckwad - and Dave went ballistic. But Az had listened. He’d encouraged Dave to talk - he’d begged Dave to talk. And they talked...all the fucking time. Which helped Dave get less angry - something that Az was pretty proud of. </p>
<p>But this time, all that shit with that fag, and Az didn’t say boo. He didn’t want to. Whatever was going on - Az didn’t want to know. He wanted a normal high school experience. He wanted a girlfriend and to keep his grades up - he was gonna be a teacher! He wanted to play football and just be normal. Normal was not a friend who was having a nervous breakdown every five fucking minutes. So, Az walked away from Dave. </p>
<p>And Dave walked away from Az. </p>
<p>It had been awful. And if Az gave it even a fucking minute of hard thought, he’d realize how sorely he’d been needed. How many things might have gone differently if only he’d grabbed Dave - driven them out to McFarley’s field, shove a Big Mac into Dave’s hands, and just said “Okay, talk to me.” </p>
<p>But he didn’t do that. He did none of that! And look what happened.</p>
<p>{just look just look just look} </p>
<p>But then, Dave transferred and then they seemed to get their mojo back - they became Dave and Az again, best friends. They goofed off, they went for drives in Dave’s car and consumed enough McDonald’s to make a lesser person sick. They played hours of video games. And they talked about everything. Well, almost everything - one thing was forbidden. Dave refused to even mention last year - he refused to talk about what happened or why he decided to transfer. And god forbid if Az should try to bring it up. And to be honest, he did try - he tried hard. But maybe it was better that Dave never talked.</p>
<p>Then...February happened. </p>
<p>And just like that, Az didn’t have a best friend anymore. All he had was a fag who used to be a friend. And all that shit last year, well it suddenly made a lot of sense to Az. Dave’s obsession with Hummel. Prom. Those stupid bully whips. All of it - it was all because Dave was a fag. </p>
<p><em> “Az - please man, answer the phone! I need help. They all know...all of them. And what they’re saying. They said I should kill myself - I’m scared. I need you.” </em> </p>
<p>No! He wasn’t going to think about <em> that </em>. He wasn’t going to think about how hurt and scared his friend had sounded that day back in February - that led to bad thoughts. </p>
<p>{He needed you He needed you He needed you}</p>
<p>FUCK! Fucking brain!</p>
<p>Someone saw Dave on a date with Hummel - of all fucking people. And suddenly, Dave was gay with a giant rainbow target on his forhead. So, naturally he’d turned to his best friend, who in turn washed his hands of him. </p>
<p>
  <em> “I want nothing to do with you, fag. You’re not my friend - you’re not the friend I remember. I don’t want no fag in my life - leave me the fuck alone, faggot.”  </em>
</p>
<p>Unconsciously, he shivered at those hateful words - but it would be six months before he understood that shiver as something akin to shame and repulsion.</p>
<p>Azimio Adams didn’t have fags in his life. He didn’t want them. He didn’t like them. He was better off without a best friend…cause fag could catch. And he didn’t want to catch no fag. So, it was easier to be alone. Less complicated.</p>
<p>{you know better you know better you know better}</p>
<p>Shit. Fuck! Damnit! Why was he letting himself think about this again? Why?! He’d made his choice - he’d decided to get rid of Dave, to remove the fag from his life. It was easier that way. So much easier that way. </p>
<p>And yet...and yet, that day. The day he’d come home and found his mom sitting alone at the kitchen table, crying - it complicated things. </p>
<p>No! No, it complicated nothing! Nothing was complicated - it was simple. He didn’t like fags. Dave was a fag. Az didn’t like Dave. Simple inductive reasoning! And fuck you if you think Az is too stupid to know what inductive reasoning is - he’s got an acceptance to OSU in the fall, so fuck you! </p>
<p>Fuck it. He needed to focus on school. School was easy - it let him shut out the damn thoughts about Dave. He didn’t want to think about Dave anymore - the door was shut on that!</p>
<p>Az glanced at the locker next to his - the girl was usually here by now, she was usually pulling out her books and looking at him like he was about to eat her baby brother or something. But this morning, nothing. No one. There was literally no one in this hallway - what the fuck was happening? </p>
<p>{Dave would know Dave would know Dave would know}</p>
<p>Az grunted...fuck this shit! He yanked open his locker again and pulled out his backpack, shoving his textbooks inside. If no one else was going to bother showing up, then he was going to go the fuck home and play some goddamn Halo. Or read his Walter Mosley novel - cause he loved a good brotha private eye. He pulled the bag over his shoulder and turned towards the main exit - hell, he’d even flaunt skipping by leaving through the damn front doors. </p>
<p>He was about to turn into the main hallway when he heard it. The cheering. There was cheering coming from the main hallway - what the fuck? He picked up his pace and hurried to see if it was some kind of graduation party he was missing. </p>
<p>He groaned in exasperation as he turned into the main hall. </p>
<p>It was just the fucking glee club coming home from winning some American Idol bullshit thing or whatever. It looked like every fucking student was standing in the main hallway, tossing confetti - out of fucking slushie cups! Oh for fucks sake. What lame bullshit was this?! He rolled his eyes and almost pulled his phone out to text Dave...then he remembered…</p>
<p>He frowned at himself - but he wasn’t sure exactly for what. </p>
<p>Az started to step forward to give the glee losers a good heckling when a flash of bright blue crossed his vision. He recognised that jacket - it had been bought at Old Navy like two years ago on the same day he'd bought his favorite hoodie. It was Dave. Dave was here - why the fuck was Dave here? Dave didn’t go here - he went to Lima Senior now, where he was happy being big faggy Dave.  </p>
<p>Moving quickly, he jumped into a small alcove that gave him a perfectly clear view of the hallway, but hid him from view. From here he had an almost perfect view of Dave, who was laughing and cheering. Dave was wearing a pink - pink! - shirt underneath the jacket! What the fuck!? First the asshole decides that he likes cock, and now he needs to flaunt it by wearing pink - could he get any more gay?! As he watched, Dave tossed what looks like a fuck ton of confetti into the air. And then he saw Hummel and that bitch Santana both running up and hugging Dave tightly. He could hear their shouts of excitement. </p>
<p>“Dave!” Hummel sounded like he’s about to have an orgasm. “What are you doing here?” </p>
<p>“I wanted to surprise you and someone emailed me about this so I thought I’d show up!” </p>
<p>Az shrank a bit more against the wall of his little alcove as his brain decides to serve him a little slice of what if. Lately, his brain loved picturing all kinds of imagined conversations he and Dave might have...he doesn’t want to think about this now. He doesn’t want his brain to fill in the gaps and show him how his friendship would’ve played out. </p>
<p>He doesn’t want … </p>
<p>
  <em> “Dave? A pink shirt? Dude, you look like a walking popsicle! A fat walking popsicle.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Fuck off - pink looks good on me.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Never said it looked bad, I said you look like a popsicle.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Well, it's gonna get me laid, dude, just you wait.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “If all it takes is a a pink shirt to you laid, I’ll drive us to the mall and buy us both every fucking pink shirt we can find!” </em>
</p>
<p>Az shook his head violently - no. He wasn’t doing this today. His motherfucking brain did it too often already - giving imaginary Dave and imaginary Az a friendship that was never going to happen in real life. He didn’t care how badly his mom wanted him to talk to Dave. Or how sad Dave looked or how much he..</p>
<p>{missed him missed him missed him} </p>
<p>… wondered how Dave was doing. He was not having a fag as a friend. </p>
<p>He needed to get out here - if he stayed, there was a risk of him being seen. And he didn’t feel like facing Hummel and Santana’s rage over how he had “abandoned Dave” or, what would be worse, seeing and talking to Dave. Seeing the hurt on his face - seeing the pain that made Dave look like a wounded animal most of the time. </p>
<p>{you caused it you caused it you caused it} </p>
<p>Az slipped out of the alcove and hurried back in the direction he’d come - glancing over his shoulder as he ran. The moment he looked back, he locked eyes with Dave. Dave was standing just at the entrance to the little alcove. He’d obviously noticed Az hiding there. And he was watching Az run away, with a ruined expression on his face. His eyes wide with hurt and rejection. Az watched as Dave’s mouth turned down in a long frown, becoming practically a pout. The hurt in his face, almost caused Az to stop in his tracks and run back to Dave. He watched Dave raise a hand, giving a small wave. </p>
<p>It was the wave that made him stumble. And he would think about that wave - obsess about that wave for months to come. </p>
<p>He could feel his brain burning with the knowledge that he should go back and talk to Dave. To try and find a healing balm to soothe the festering wound that was their friendship. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. They weren’t friends anymore, not since Dave had decided to become...gay. He shook his head, turned his face away from those sad eyes and ran as hard as he could. </p>
<p>This was the closest they’d come to an actual encounter. He’d seen Dave a few times over the last couple months - mostly at a distance, or in passing, or on someone else’s Facebook account. He knew Mr. K. had gotten rid of all of Dave’s social media accounts to keep Dave safe and protected. A move Az certainly approved of - he might be an asshole who wanted nothing to do with Dave, but even he had to admit the vile shit those kids from Dave’s old school had posted was too far over the line. </p>
<p>But even if he hadn’t posted or done anything quite as vile, he was still seen as public enemy number one by Dave’s friends, namely everyone else at McKinley. Santana looked, most days, like she was liable to actually pull a straight razor on him. Hummel despised him and would often hiss some very unique insults at him almost daily. Even Hudson had told him off. Fuck, even Strando had called him a homophobe and pushed him into a locker. </p>
<p>But he remained steadfast - he didn’t want a fag as a his friend. He just didn’t. So, he showed up at school - went to class - and left. No need for social interaction bullshit anyways. All he wanted was to be finished and get to college - he could forget about all of this in college. He could disappear from all this in college - find people like him. Find his tribe! And finally leave his faggy ex-friend behind him. </p>
<p>He wanted nothing to do with this fucking white-ass hick town and the idiots in it. He’d even skipped his own senior prom - deciding to play Halo all night instead. But that didn’t mean he could ignore the dozens of photos of the damn thing on Facebook, including all the shots of Santana’s date - Dave. He’d sat there staring at those images for hours - his fucking brain playing out scenario after scenario of what it would’ve been like to be there with Dave. </p>
<p>Az ran through the halls - he could still hear the cheering behind him. But he could imagine fucking Hummel and Santana gathered round Dave, offering support or whatever faggy shit those three fags did!</p>
<p>Fuck this. Fuck all this! Fuck Dave and those fucking glee shit heads. Fuck them all. Fuck the homos. Fuck all of it. He was going home…</p>
<p>{miss your friend miss your friend miss your friend}</p>
<p>“FUCK OFF!” Az screamed as he clapped his hands over his head. “Just stop! I don’t miss him. I don’t want him as a friend. I don’t want a fag as a friend! Please just stop!” </p>
<p>The problem was that he couldn’t actually explain why he felt this way - he couldn’t explain why he was so headstrong in this belief. It wasn’t as if his mom or family were anti-gay, they were actually pretty accepting. In fact, his mom had joined a rather progressive Anglican church a few years ago - so he couldn’t even blame religion. And yeah, he listened to rap music and hip hop, neither of which were exactly ready to welcome gays with open arms, but he also didn’t see Kayne or Biggie as gospel or anything. It was just a fact of life - he just...he just hated gays. </p>
<p>He couldn’t understand why they would decide to do this - why would they want to have sex with other men. Why would they flaunt what was just not natural? It was gross. His best friend was disgusting - that’s all there was to it. And Az wanted nothing to do with it. </p>
<p>Az pushed through the side door, next to the gym, and hurried around the building. He could use the shortcut to the student parking lot, it would keep him far away from the main entrance and any chance of being spotted. He could see his white truck sitting on the edge of the lot - the only available spot that he could find when he got in late this morning. He hurried towards it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dave’s beat up old Chevy sedan parked in the visitor lot. He stumbled, remembering the number of times they’d driven around in that thing - and the number of times Az had been terrified for his life when the car’s interior would start smelling slightly like burning oil. </p>
<p>
  <em> “It’s fine Az! This is just what my car smells like!”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “If I die, I swear to god, Dave…”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “What?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’ll haunt you. You’ll never get a moment’s rest - I’ll even learn all the words to every Britney Spears song and sing them next to your ear late at night.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Like you don’t know all the words already!”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Oh! Do you want to talk about your musical tastes? Mr. I listen only to sad white boys with guitars music!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Fuck off! You know I like that shit!”  </em>
</p>
<p>No...stop it. It’s no use thinking about the past. No use thinking about what they used to have. Dave was a fag and Az didn’t have fag friends. Az ran to his truck, threw open the door and tossed in his bag. He heaved himself up and slammed his key into the ignition. He’d go home - his mom was at work till seven, so he could just play video games all day. Fuck school - there were like three days left anyways. He just needed to make it to the end of the week, then he could clean out his locker and finally walk away. He was so nearly done. He’d written his finals, he’d graduated - he could head off to college without anything holding him back. He could just be finished. </p>
<p>There was nothing left for him here. </p>
<p>{he misses you he misses you he misses you} </p>
<p>“Fuck off.” His growled into the silence of his truck. He didn’t care. He just didn’t. So what if his friend missed him, it was his friend’s choice to go gay. It was his friend’s choice to do this. It doesn’t matter that he and Dave were everything to each other once - that stopped the day Dave decided to go gay. </p>
<p>He didn’t have fag friends and that was never going to change. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. \create myself/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“In the World through which I travel, I am endlessly creating myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-Franz Fanon</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Everything that happened...it was all Franz Fanon’s fault. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, that’s what Az wanted to tell himself, but he also kind of liked to think that the capability to change was inside him all this time. Which sounds like some fucking Disney princess bullshit and, really he kind of wanted to vomit at the very idea of it - like come one! The power was in you all along. Cue heavy eye roll. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But even so, he did blame Fanon. Or maybe it was Professor Morris? She was the one who turned him onto Fanon in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, later in life, it won’t be blame that he attributes to Professor Ciarra Morris, but thanks. Everything that happened was, in part, because she placed that book in his hands. Every beautiful, tragic, exhausting and breathtaking moment that followed was all because of a line on Professor Morris’s African American Studies 1101 reading list. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So really, he guessed that in the end it’s actually college that made it all happen. Yeah,  everything really started to change when he started college. It was vague and slow - like an air bubble in the ocean gradually rising to the surface. And if Az thought about it - and he really had thought about it, quite hard actually - he supposed that he went through one of those really stereotypical college moments where his mind broadened and somehow in the span of a few months, he became an adult and... blah blah blah. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His story, which he will one day tell in a sunlit kitchen in San Francisco, in some ways started and ended with Franz Fanon and with himself. But really - and that day in San Francisco, he’ll laugh at this realization - it all started and ended with Dave, because who else would it start and end with? </span>
</p>
<h3>
  <span>(Fall 2012)</span>
</h3>
<p>
  <span>He started at OSU in the fall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was kinda bummed that he didn’t get a football scholarship, but whatever. Some of his grades were enough to get him a small academic scholarship, which he kind of wished he could rub in the faces of those patronizing assholes from McKinley. But high school felt so far away from him now - so far and so foreign to him. And he really loved college - he loved the way it made him feel, the way people didn’t just look at him like he’s some idiot jock, but rather like he might be worth talking to. He felt like...he was changing. Growing up. And it was pretty cool. The more time he spent at school the more he felt something was changing in him - like he’s not the same. He was in a whole new situation and he was feeling the change starting to seep in. Like the whole world was opening up for him and all he had to do was dive in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not getting the football scholarship kinda put a snag in his plans to live on campus, but his mom offered to let him live at home, plus she said she would help him with his tuition. So, he got himself a part time job at Dunham’s Sports and took out a student loan to cover the rest. It’s also really nice to be at home, being around his mom felt good even if she barely talked to him. Hasn’t really talked to him since February. Plus, some of his classes were at the Lima campus, so it just worked out well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And college was...so incredible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment he walked onto campus for the first time, he could practically taste change in the air - it was all around him. It was there in the way he nervously waited in line for his student ID, or how he struggled to navigate the bookstore for his textbooks or his first time staring at a campus map, trying to figure out where his classes were, or how much he hated all those fucking group activities during orientation week. And most of all, he felt it while wandering through the student involvement fair - trying to figure out if he should sign up for ultimate frisbee (whatever the fuck that was) or the black students group.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had no idea how essential that choice would later become.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ended up forgetting about being a jock for an afternoon and hung out with other black students - which was really cool. It’s not something that he ever thought he’d get to do, as Lima was pretty fucking white. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The change, he would say, officially started while he was sitting on the grass outside the library, drinking a Red Bull. He was talking to other students that looked like him, but they sure as fuck didn’t think like him - their thoughts were wider and bigger than his. They had a perspective - a view on the world - that he struggled to even comprehend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he sat there, nodding along to someone talking about the historical significance of President Obama, a sophomore was suddenly asking him about his classes,  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the class you’re most excited about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He struggled with the answer - he’s not really excited about any of them. More scared shitless “Uh, I signed up for Introduction to African American Studies, is that a good class?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guy laughed. “With Morris?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Man, get ready to have your brain rebooted - and make sure you read the Fanon, she loves him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just bought that book today - it looks boring.” Az touched his bag from the bookstore - unsure about any of the books he’d just bought. Unsure about any of this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah - he’s kinda awesome. Hardcore, but awesome.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t be any worse than the fucking Shakespeare they made me read in high school!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amen to that brother! Fucking dead white guys!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az sat there, listening to them talk about things he never really thought about before - prejudice, racism, civil rights, allyship, sexism. These are things that had been utterly foregin to him before now and he realizes he’d lived a really fucking sheltered life, for a black guy. And he gripped his bag a little tighter - hoping that maybe whatever’s in there, can help him grow up a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe help him start thinking a little more </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His whole body grew hot when they started talking about homophobia. He doesn’t want to talk about this - talking about this will lead to thoughts of Dave, thoughts of what he did...and he’s not ready to admit… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No! He wanted to jump up and yell at them that all gays are bad! Just bad! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was starting to push himself off the grass to do just that when he saw her. The girl who was really going to change his life, he just didn’t know that yet. She’s sitting across from him, legs crossed and leaning forward with her elbows braced on her knees. She’s nodding and talking excitedly, asking all these questions that make his brain hurt. She’s beautiful - all lean limbs, rich brown skin, long braided hair that hung down to her waist - and her smile was bright and intoxicating. And the moment he saw her sitting there, nodding in agreement with whatever someone was saying about homophobia, Az sat his ass back down and started listening.    </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He drove home that night with his mind full of conflicting ideas and anxieties. And he kept thinking about how he and Dave were supposed to be doing this together. They were supposed to be tackling college together. Best friend. Roommates. Classmates. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let his brain imagine what this afternoon would’ve been like if Dave had been with him. Would Dave have gone and hung out with that gay student group? Yeah, probably. Then, before going back to the apartment they shared, they would’ve hit up that cheesy diner on campus and talked about the girl Az was crushing on and whatever guy Dave was drooling over. They would’ve been bros together - like they were supposed to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If only Az hadn’t… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he felt deeply uncomfortable as that little voice presented a new thought…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>{huh. Why...why wasn’t the hate… so present anymore?}</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He missed Dave. But he knew Dave was happy...at least he hoped so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was late September when Az heard that Dave had left Lima and gone to New York. His response wasn’t what he expected. He’d been happy. Happy that Dave got out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he heard that Dave left with his boyfriend, Kurt Hummel. Which just made him laugh, because of fucking course those two would end up together - of fucking course. It’s so fucking perfectly stupid that it’s almost like a plot from some fucking whiteass rom-com or some shit like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he’d felt happy when he heard - happy that Dave got out and happy that Dave got the boy. In his head, Dave was totally like Scott Pilgrim - taking on that weird kid Kurt had been dating. He bets it was some kind of epic showdown and he bets Dave grabbed Kurt at the end and kissed him like nobody’s business. All suave and cocky and full of himself, just like Dave should be. A real 007 kinda guy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered what Dave was doing in New York. He wondered which school Dave was at right now - which school was he finding his way in? Where was he being overwhelmed by long lines and new experiences? Probably NYU, they’d talked about that back… before February. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was Dave doing sports management? He’d always talked about that, but Az also knew so many of Dave’s secret ambitions - a doctor being his biggest - so who knows exactly what Dave would end up being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Dave got out - he did himself proud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kinda knew that his reaction to Dave getting out was because of that day on the lawn outside the library, and he’s impressed at that shift. It’s no longer that he’s just happy about there being two less fags in Lima, no, he’s actually happy </span>
  <em>
    <span>for</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dave. Happy and proud </span>
  <em>
    <span>of</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dave. But he also knew that there was a problem - a pretty big problem - with these feelings of happiness. Because they were tied to the person - to Dave. His feelings - they didn’t extend out from there. He’s still struggling to look at a group of queers and feel the same way.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he was getting there - and it felt like every time he walked onto that campus or sat in a classroom, he was changing a little bit more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was taking all the usual bullshit classes that first years have to take to eventually get a Bachelor’s of Arts - english composition, American history and other stuff like that - but he’s kind of enjoying them. And he was surprised to find he rather liked the film studies class he picked at the last minute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They watched A Clockwork Orange. And he rolled his eyes the whole time, but he remembered how much Dave hated that movie. Said it terrified him. He kind of wished Dave had been around to talk to about it with, cause he didn’t understand a damn thing the prof was going on about. All he heard was “white nonsense. White nonsense. White nonsense.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But most of all, he was in love with his African American Studies class. By the end of the first class, he had realized just how fucking ignorant he was when it came to anything about being a black guy - except that he had it a little harder than other people. But this class - it literally felt like his head was being cracked open and his brain was being rearranged. He was starting to actually understand what it meant to be black - what it meant for him to experience the world through his identity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the second week of class, his prof - the very awesome and intense Dr. Morris - made them read that guy, Franz Fanon. When he bought the book, Az was sure he’d lose his mind with boredom, but ended up staying up all night reading. And the more he read, well the more he was starting to see things in a whole new way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was a small unfortunate side effect to that. That little voice that liked torturing him with thoughts of Dave, it had started changing  - his brain seemed keen on forcing him to see the world through Fanon quotes. Az’s brain was opening and filling to the brim with philosophy, which was like a fucking joke, really.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>{I am black; I am in total fusion with the world, in sympathetic affinity with the earth, losing my id in the heart of the cosmos -- and the white man, however intelligent he may be, is incapable of understanding Louis Armstrong or songs from the Congo.}</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s starting to see his identity spread out in front of him like a mosaic - and he’s realizing how much he needed to grow up. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, outside a vague notion that he might want to be a teacher, which really was a joke! Like, who the fuck would hire him to teach kids - he’s a total asshole who knows nothing about anything. But this class - jesus fucking christ - this class just felt...essential. Like he might actually be able to do some good in this world if he just kept it up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with only a few months of it under his belt, he’s pretty much ready to declare African American Studies as his major. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bets Dave would be shocked to discover that his asshole homophobic ex-best friend - the guy who bullied people at the drop of a hat - was suddenly interested in social justice and civil rights and identity politics. Or that his dumbass friend who refused to even read that lameass Shakespeare dude, would be absolutely obsessed with some black philosopher from the 1950s! But there he was - carrying around his now tattered (after only a few months) copy of Black Skin, White Masks - acting like he’s some kind of great thinker. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But fuck man, this class and his good friend Fanon, they were forcing him to think about things - and not just who he was as a black man! They’re making him think about some really fucking uncomfortable things. Especially when he tossed Dave into that mix.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fanon - well shit, he kinda got right to the heart of the matter for Az. He took a really sharp stick and jammed it right into that mushy grey matter of his brain. He pushed Az to think about what exactly he fucking believed in. And the more he stared at this one page in his book - a page that’s filled with highlighter, pen marks and pencil underlines - the more he was starting to feel sick to his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>{Sometimes people hold a core belief that is very strong. When they are presented with evidence that works against that belief, the new evidence cannot be accepted. It would create a feeling that is extremely uncomfortable, called cognitive dissonance. And because it is so important to protect the core belief, they will rationalize, ignore and even deny anything that doesn't fit in with the core belief.}</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az’s brain fucking hurt! Those words hit harder than they should have - they hit him like a ton of bricks because they were about him. They were him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What are his core beliefs? What are his core ideas about the world - about himself, about his mom, about Kurt… about Dave? And what if his core beliefs were founded on something they shouldn’t be? Should he be worried - because, really, he rationalized </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> over how he treated Dave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>These felt like questions that his stupid eighteen year old brain couldn’t even begin to comprehend. But they were there. They’re tumbling around in his mind like rocks in a cement mixer. And the longer they’re there, the more they’re breaking shit apart and making him start to challenge something that needed challenging. Causing something to crumble - something he thinks he should have let crumble long ago. Something dark and wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, because of that, he was finding it harder to avoid what his brain has been whispering at him for so long now. He’s starting to think more about his ruined friendship. And about the core belief he’d had about his friendship. And his attitude towards...everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every single day is a new exercise in breaking apart his attitudes - and he’s barely tethered to what he once was. It’s a tiny fragile piece of string that’s keeping him attached to the child he was - the foolish man child that had so effectively ruined his closest friendship. A string that’s started to fray more and more every single day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when she appeared, it finally all came apart - the string finally broke apart.   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alicia. The girl from the lawn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He met Alicia - well, he introduced himself to her - in his African American studies class. She’d breezed in that first day, full of cool confidence and sex appeal. She was completely different from every other girl in the room - smarter, more self-assured and so much more adult. Her long braided hair swayed with every step, and she was dressed in these beautiful afrocentric clothes that flowed out from her and seemed to ripple like water even when she wasn’t moving. Her skin was flawless and her intelligent brown eyes seemed capable of seeing right into your soul. She was amazing and Az fell in love the moment he saw her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for some absurd reason, she actually gave him the time of day, deciding to sit next to him right from the start. She later told him that she recognized him from the black students meet-up and decided to see what he was all about. He was sure he’d pass out the moment she said hello.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In their second week, right as Az was struggling with some uncomfortable truths thanks to his pal Mr. Fanon, he’d forgotten a pen. He’d shyly asked if she could lend him one, she’d smiled and handed him a cheap bic. At the end of class, he’d handed it back, but she just shook her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope. Keep it - but buy me a cup of coffee to say thank you.”    </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He legitimately thought he was going to piss his pants, but nodded. They’d spent the next two hours talking about Fanon and civil rights and their lives in Ohio. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d grown up in Columbus - over in Olde Town East. And she hated it, said that it felt so rundown and ghetto - marked with crime and shit that made her feel her blackness every single day. And not in a way that made her feel good about her skin color. So, all she’d ever dreamed of was finding a way to get away from that place. To find a way to get to celebrate her blackness in a way that made her feel good about it. She’d gone to a surprisingly diverse high school, and pushed herself to make something of high school - to make something of her life. As far as she was concerned, OSU was only the first step. She had her eyes set on Harvard Law, and nothing was going to stand in her fucking way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one in Az’s life had ever been as determined and set on something as Alicia was. She was so at home in her skin - she loved who she was and she was so confident in that person. It made Az want to see himself - want to recognize who he was just as badly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he cherished that first coffee date so much. It felt so special, because this special woman was giving him her time and attention. But then, one coffee turned into two and then three and then the coffees started to become a weekly thing. Then they became a thing every time Az was in Columbus for any of his classes. Then they became lunch dates and the occasional dinner dates and study dates and even movie dates or long walks around campus dates. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az wanted, very badly, to believe that they were date dates, but everytime he thought to ask he felt a little queasy. The idea that she would want to date his fat ass - preposterous. And, not for the first time, he wished Dave was there to help. Az - for all his bravado - just wasn’t brave enough to ask if they were dating or not. But he figured Dave would’ve smacked him upside the head and told him not to be a motherfucking fool. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But those maybe dates, god they were amazing. They spent hours talking. They talked about everything - well almost everything. She told him about her sister and her learning disabilities, about her high school boyfriend who had left her for a much older woman, about her father - who owned a bar in town - against his preacher father’s wishes - and she told him about her dreams of being a lawyer for the ACLU. And he talked so much! More than he ever had before -  he told her about growing up in rural Ohio, about football, about how he loved history in high school, about his dream of being a teacher, and how that dream was changing because of their class, he just didn’t know what that dream was changing into yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only one topic was forbidden, as far as he was concerned. He never talked about Dave - Dave was forbidden.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The talks were really starting to push his little bubble of understanding faster towards the surface - he was starting to face some really uncomfortable truths about himself because of those talks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t know about Dave, which was mostly because he was starting to feel pretty ashamed about that. And he was sure she’d leave him in the dust the moment she heard about his feelings towards gay people. Although, he was starting to realize that maybe those feelings and beliefs weren’t right anymore. Because, for three months, Az really had been undergoing a </span>
  <span>rather intense process of change. Yeah…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>{he really liked this metaphor apparently}</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>...he was floating up slowly, about to break onto the surface of whatever sea he’d been drowning in. He was about to grow up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The week after Thanksgiving felt significant. Az felt like everything was starting to come together - thoughts of Dave, thoughts of Alicia, thoughts of what he actually believed - the sense of change that was in the air felt palpable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day it all finally changed was a Friday. He’d driven home from Columbus. And he had just had his African American Studies class, so his brain was filled with thoughts about the civil rights movement, segregation, lynchings and hate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hate had been on his mind a lot actually - ever since Professor Michaels had talked to them about Fanon’s ideas about hate - how those who hate do so with their whole existence, that they become hate. Which made him really sad, But then she’d read a James Baldwin quote: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s spent the entire night sitting on his bed, thinking. He thought about how funny it was that James Baldwin had finally sparked it all - Baldwin, a gay man. An openly gay man. An openly gay black man! It felt like Baldwin had stepped out of the past and slapped Az across the face to wake him up - to make him finally realize what he’d done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because of that, he’d thought about Dave a whole lot that night. He remembered Dave - after everything in Junior year - when Hummel had come back and how upset he looked. He looked like he was in pain - all the time. Dave had </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hummel - hated gays - but maybe when he’d finally had to face that hate, when that hate wasn’t there anymore, all that was left was pain. The pain of admitting who he was. The pain of admitting that everything he’d done was because he hated himself and the pain of how awful regret and shame was. Dave had changed after that - he mellowed, like he was finally able to breathe again. So maybe you had to go through pain so you could change? So you could breathe?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But where would that leave Az when he had to confront what he hated? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That Friday, as he’d hurried to get to class so he could save a spot for Alicia, he’d started thinking that maybe hating was a really really bad thing. He was black - which meant he was hated. He was hated a whole fucking lot! He didn’t want people to hate him, but it was a fact of life really. He didn’t want people looking at him like he was worthless as a human being. He was hated so much that some people wouldn't care if he’d died - some people would kill him outright because of his skin color. And he didn’t want that - he wanted to refuse to accept that hate was part of his identity. So, shouldn’t that extend outwards from his identity - if he didn’t want people to hate who he was, why would he want to hate others because of who they were? Wouldn’t he want to care about anyone if they got killed or hurt? ...Shouldn’t he want other people to just live as themselves, in the same way </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted to live as himself!?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whoa. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finally started to get it. He finally started to understand what he’d done. And that realization stopped him in his tracks, nearly causing him to double over in pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The idea of hate was burning alive inside him - and every time he started thinking about it, he also thought about Dave. And thinking about Dave - it hurt. But still - with that pain threatening to consume him - he wasn’t ready to admit it! But he was getting so close! Finally, on that day,  over coffee, as he asked Alicia about it, he started to break the surface. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Licia - can I ask you something?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to ask me to help you pick a topic for your final paper - cause I don’t even know what I want to write about yet, so no.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az shook his head - he didn’t need help with that, he was writing about Fanon. “No. It’s...um...I’ve been thinking about hate a lot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hate?” She looked quizzically at him over her coffee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah - remember last week, Professor Michals talked about hate and how in America, being hated makes up some people’s entire identity…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More Fanon love, huh Azzy? I swear you’re gonna end up with a tattoo of that man’s face one of these days.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az nearly blushed and giggled at the use of her nickname for him - he tried not to read too much into it. “Don’t tease me! I’m being serious! Do you remember how we talked about that quote - the Baldwin one?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re fun to tease Azzy! And yeah, I remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think the whole pain after hate thing means?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh - well, I suppose, it’s like the pain you feel after you’ve hurt someone. Cause, hate causes a lot of hurt, right? So when you stop hating, you have to face all the hurt you’ve caused and that’ll cause pain?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think the hate gay people face is the same as what we face as black people?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alicia paused for a moment, coffee cup halfway raised to her mouth. She furrowed her brow slightly, thinking hard, and then nodded. “I think it’s very similar, I mean - it’s all about hating someone because of who they are. Being black is like having this giant ball and chain always attached to your leg - you’re always going to be hindered, always held back. And I think being gay is the same - but different too. I’m not sure - it all comes down to prejudice, right?.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But remember, in the reading, when they talked about racism coming from ignorance and prejudice - hating gay people, it comes form the same place, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah. I totally believe that. We can’t change our skin color, and people who are gay they can’t change who they love. Why are you asking about this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dunno...uh, just something that’s been on my mind lately.” Az looked away, his eyes captured by the sight of a couple students walking past the Starbucks window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should talk to Dr. Morris, Azzy, I bet you could write your paper on this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, I might.” He was blushing, and he wanted to say it was because of the nickname, but he was blushing at the final realization that his original assessment of being gay as a choice...well, he might have been wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That moment in the coffeeshop - that final realization - it had placed him on the verge of something. On the verge of understanding something really deep - really significant. All these things - his gradual understanding of what it meant to hate, what being gay meant, his feelings for Alicia, his slow unfolding because of of his African American Studies class, and his constant thoughts of Dave. They were all coming to a head - lessening his hate. And it was starting to scare him a little, because he was starting to face some really hard pain.   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had let him down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That day, that Friday, as he pulled into his mom’s driveway, locked his truck and walked into the house - it was his final breaching. But it was also the start of his eventual becoming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walking into the house, he’d smiled because it smelled like his mom had been baking something, all cinnamon and spices. He dropped his bag on the floor of the entranceway, took off his jacket and shoes and headed towards the kitchen. His mom was waiting for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a scene, eerily reminiscent of last February, his mom was sitting at the kitchen table - a small pile of photographs in front of her. She was already dressed in her nurse scrubs, clearly ready to head out for her night shift. There’s also a small plate of cinnamon sugar cookies and a glass of milk sitting at the space across from her. She smiled at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sit down Az, we need to talk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat. He knew what was coming. It’d been coming for a long time now - he’d been wanting it.  He’d been expecting it. And he was glad it was happening now, because he thinks he’s ready now. He was ready for the final push to finally confront the pain of change. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi ma. These for me?” He pointed to the cookies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I made your favorite.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled and took a bite of one - a warm rush of butter and spices flooded his mouth. He moaned quietly. “Hey mom…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember when Dave ate like twenty of these that one Christmas and he got so sick that all he could do was lie on our couch and watch movies?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I also remember you eating a pound of chocolate at the same time and not being able to move. But yes, I do. Az…” She sighed quietly. “I want to talk about Dave. Do you think we can have a reasonable conversation about him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” He smiled because he meant it. He was ready to talk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled at him and breathed a sigh of relief, then she picked up one of the photos and handed it to him. He smiled so hard when he looked at it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re seven years old, playing football in Dave’s backyard. Dave was in this stupid green shirt, knees scuffed and bloody - a huge grin on his face. He’s holding a ball in one hand and pushing Az back with the other - they were probably playing keep away. Dave was always better at that. He was always so fearless in making sure Az never got him or the ball. Az remembered this moment...they’d eaten chips and read comics right after. They had lay on Dave’s bed - heads hanging off the edge, giggling like crazy as the world turned upside down. Then they’d begged Dave’s dad to take them to Dairy Queen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked back up at his mom, she’s watching his face. He stared back at her. She handed him the next photo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh fuck. He remembered this one too - they were nine! And Dave had decided that his best friend needed to know how to ice skate, cause he loved to skate and Az should too!. They’re standing on the ice at Indian Lake, Dave was turned away from the camera - his body crouched forward in the exact right way to guide Az across the ice. But Az’s face was a mask of absolute terror. He’d been sure he was going to die - sure he was going to fall and someone was going to skate over his hand or something. He remembered clutching Dave’s arm so tightly as they moved slowly across the ice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck...I remember this.” He heard his mom clear her throat. Oh right, she hated it when he swore. “Sorry ma. But remember how many times I fell down?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes I do. I also remember who picked you up every single time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dave...he was always right there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded and handed him the next photo. He laughed out loud. Halloween, when they were twelve. Dave as Han Solo and Az as Lando Calrissian. Dave’s dad had spent weeks helping them put together the costumes, because Dave had to make sure it was accurate. Az’s mom had even sewed Lando’s cape and Han’s vest. Dave had saved up all his money for weeks to buy an accurate pistol like Han’s - he’d been so proud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az shook his head, taking another bite of a cookie. “Remember when we had to talk Dave’s mom into using her make up to paint on my moustache?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I also remember how insanely proud you both were - you wore those outfits for days.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This was one of the best Halloween - we got so much candy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mom laughed. “I remember - believe me, you were hyped up on sugar for weeks. Do you want to see another one?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This one might make you a little sad, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held out his hand and his mom handed him another photo. His face fell slightly - he remembered this. At fourteen - the Fourth of July. Dave’s dad had let them set up fireworks in the backyard. Az had planned the whole thing - he’d figured out exactly which ones to buy - going with Dave’s dad to buy them and surprise Dave. Where to set them off. All of it. And all because he wanted to make sure his friend was happy - anything to distract his friend from the hurt he’d felt at his mom leaving. In the photo, they’re standing together, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, proudly watching as roman candles, ground spinners and black cats go off in front of them. Dave’s shoulders are slightly hunched, but it had been the first time in weeks that his head hadn’t hung low. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az couldn’t help the small sob from boiling up out of his mouth. He remembered what he said...oh fuck…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll always be here, Dave. I promise. You can count on me.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, everything crashed down - Alicia, the class, Fanon, the hate and bigotry he’d felt, Dave’s face that day at McKinley, Dave’s voice on the phone in February - all of it. Every single thing that he’d faced over the past three months...no nine months - they’re crashing against him and pushing him to finally break surface. He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d let down his friend. That fucking voice in his head, after all this time, it had been telling him the truth. He’d broken his promise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His chest felt really tight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked back at his mom. “Mom?” His voice was like shattered glass. Oh, my god, this hurts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweetie - please look at all of these, okay.” She dumped dozens of pictures in front of him - him and Dave, at eight - chasing each other on bikes, at ten and twelve and fifteen and sixteen - playing video games and laughing wildly, at nine - lying in sleeping bags in the backyard staring at the night sky, at sixteen - hugging each other in a pool, at thirteen - covered in flour because they’d decided to make their own pizza and figured it couldn’t be that hard, at sixteen again - grinning next to Dave’s car after a very impromptu road trip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dozens of photos. All of them examples of the one thing he’d cherished so deeply - his friendship with Dave. Az can’t - he just can’t. His head sagged and he pressed his palms into his eyes. He didn’t want to cry - he never cried. It’s like his biggest rule! His eyes were burning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>{you let him down you let him down you let him down}</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I let him down.” His voice was muffled but he’s sure his mom could hear his tears. He heard her chair scrape on the floor and then her soft hand was rubbing circles into his back. His chest was heaving now as all the thoughts he’d been fighting against flooded his brain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could have died. Dave could have died - he’d tried to kill himself. He’d felt so alone and so hurt and so abandoned that he’d tried to kill himself. His best friend almost died and Az did nothing. Nothing! He acted like he didn’t care. Oh my god! Oh god oh god oh god...he wasn’t there! Why wasn’t he there!? Just because he thought - THOUGHT - that gay people weren’t worth the effort. That his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t worth the effort. His actions had demonstrated his hate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dave almost died and the one person he always thought would be there had walked away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it hit him - a truth harder than any other ever would hit - he was the bad guy. In this moment - in all the moments since Dave had called him in February - he was the bad guy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Azimio Adams was the bad guy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az's entire body started shaking with his sobs. He heard his mom whispering quietly to him, telling him to calm down. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t - there was too much. As the hate finally slipped away, he realized that Baldwin was right, that Fanon was right - the pain that comes after hate was immense and awful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the bad guy deserved the pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fought - he struggled to calm himself down. And slowly, he started to get his breathing under control again. He pulled his shaking hands away from his face, gulping in a few mouthfuls of air. He felt his mom standing close to him, he turned to press his face into her stomach, she wrapped her arms around him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Az - I need you to listen to me now, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded against her stomach. He loosened his arms so she could sit down next to him. She picked up a pamphlet, handing it to him. It was bright and colorful - covered in rainbows and across the top, in bold white letters, was the word PFLAG. He stared at it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>{Oh, how he would come to hate the sight of pamphlets in later years}</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Az. I hate having to say this - but you’re ignorant and a bigot. And you let down your best friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words were like a cold hard slap across his face. They hurt and added to the pain. Almost as if he had been slapped physically, he lifted his hand to cup his cheek and stared at his mom. He opened his mouth. A few months ago, he would have defended himself - he would have told her to shut up. But now...now there was no defense to fall back on. There was no justification. He just knew she’s right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked back at the photos. All these little moments - him and Dave asleep under a Christmas tree. Him and Dave building Lego. Him and Dave posing in front of Dave’s new-to-him car, just before they went and bought almost the whole menu at McDonalds and driving out to that big field just outside of town. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mom’s voice was firm, but gentle. He knew she was giving him an ultimatum - either grow up and get your head on right or you’re out. “You need to learn that Dave is...just Dave. He’s no different because he’ll have a husband one day rather than a wife. He’s your friend and he’s hurting and a little lost. Az, I need you - Dave needs you to stop this and get your damn head out of your ass. Think about going to this group - think about how much it would mean to Dave if one day you walked up to him and said ‘I’m sorry.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, a new question formed in his mind - when we take away the hate and we are left with the pain, what comes after the pain? Change? Acceptance? But what about before that? There has to be a step before that, right? There has to be work - hard work - to get to the change. He picked up the pamphlet again, wondering how scary it would be to walk into a room full of people that he doesn’t really understand and ask for help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would probably be terrifying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Az - can you say something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not sure what to say, so he said the thing that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about for days, “One of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” His mom sounded confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a quote - my teacher used it in class last week, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I don’t want to hate him anymore. I let him down, mom. He’s my best friend and I...I rejected him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did sweetie - and I know that’s not who you are. But you need to learn - you need to let that hate go. You have to - and not just for Dave, but for yourself too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. I don’t know what to do. There’s so many thoughts in my head, mom.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, this group meets every Thursday downtown - why not start there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know if he’ll ever talk to me again, mom.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a risk you have to take, sweetie. But this might be the first step to trying. And… you need to just try.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Az nodded slowly and picked up one of the photos - seven year old Dave and Az, playing football. “I’ll go this week.” His voice was weak and sad, but he smiled a little as he felt his mom throw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then they sat and talked. They talked a lot about last February. And he told her about everything that’s happened since September. School, the class, Fanon, even Alicia - all of it. She nodded, holding his hand the whole time. Eventually, as she got up to start moving around the kitchen, she gripped his shoulder, “You’re on your way already Az, but you need to do more. You need to show Dave that you’re not the person he knew last February.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, she left him alone with his thoughts. He just continued to sit at the table, looking at the photos while his mom busied herself making dinner to have later at the hospital. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not sure why, but he kept thinking about this thing that Alicia said last week - something about the process of becoming. She’s in first year philosophy, and kept going on and on about some really old dead white guy who talked about becoming as a process of change. She seemed really into it and he tried to keep up with her - but now, he’s wondering if maybe he’s in the middle of the process of becoming. Because he’s changing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn’t even remotely what he thought he was signing up for when he decided to become a college student. This felt much bigger than just some stereotypical movie of the week - bully goes to college and becomes enlightened bullshit. This felt like something deeper - like he’s not just having his eyes be opened for the first time, but like he’s figuring out his identity. He’s becoming himself.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>{And he was becoming so much more than he ever could have thought. He was growing into the academic scholar he would later become}  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not entirely sure when it really started - his first day at college, sitting with the black students group, going to his first African American studies class, listening to Professor Morris, meeting Alicia, reading Fanon…or maybe some other unknown moment, but he knew that he was never afraid of those moments. And he couldn’t be afraid now. He just had to stand up, be brave and admit that he needed help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, in the end, he’s still a bit of a coward - and maybe it would be just a little easier if he didn’t have to do it alone - “Hey mom, I might drive back to Columbus tonight, I want to talk to a friend.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, okay, well be careful.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got up and walked into the living room, pulling his phone out and dialing Alicia’s number - it rang twice before her silky voice was on the other end. He couldn’t help but smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Azzy - wow, you really must not be able to get enough of me, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Licia.” He smiled, already feeling warm in his gut. ‘No, I guess not.” But he knows his voice was weird and that it’s pretty damn clear he’d been crying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Az? Are you okay? It sounds like you’re crying.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...no…” he sighed softly, “Look, can we go out and have a coffee or something? I think I really need to talk to you tonight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her voice immediately held a tone of worry, “What’s wrong? And, of course!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll explain when I get there - can we meet at Sloppy’s? I’ll leave now and can be there in like two hours.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. Are you gonna be okay to drive? I can borrow my roomie’s car and come to you. This is freaking me out, you don’t seem like the kind of guy who cries.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be okay. I want to come to you. I promise I’ll be okay. See you in two hours okay?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. \Beyond Our Infantile Fantasies/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“For the beloved should not allow me to turn my infantile fantasies into reality: On the contrary, he should help me to go beyond them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>- Franz Fanon</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Sloppy’s Diner was perhaps the most confusing place on the face of the planet and, in Az’s opinion, it was also the whitest place he’d ever been in - and he lived in fucking Lima, Ohio. It’s essentially a student bar, university cafeteria and, here’s the confusing part, a 1950s diner. For some reason, the brainiacs at Ohio State University’s Student Union decided that what represented the interests of their student population was an exact replica of the kind of diner you’d find in Archie comics. The entire place was done up in white and red formica, vinyl and it constantly smelled like frying eggs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And every single time Az walked into the place, the only thing he could think was - Oh! Segregation! Which was not exactly the most charitable thing to think about when you’re trying to get your breakfast on. And yet, he kept coming back here - mainly for the pancakes, but they also made a mean chocolate milkshake. Although sometimes he wished he could just order a beer with his pancakes - but underage drinking really seemed to be frowned upon, even with his fake ID. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, as he walked into Sloopy’s, wearing his usual baggy jeans, oversize OSU hoodie and scuffed runners, he was not really feeling his usual jovial and goofy self. He’s still reeling from everything he’d figured out today - he felt like a sack of shit, to be honest. Like the lowest of the low, and his mind was so preoccupied with questions of redemption, change and how he might dig himself out of this pit of regret he found himself in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How to evolve from bad guy to good guy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused in the doorway, eyes scanning the restaurant - and then he spotted her. She’s sitting in one of the corner booths, the textbook for their first year English class propped open on the table with a large notebook next to it. She’d tied her hair long back with a burnt orange silk scarf so it fell in one long braid down her back, and she had on a pair of round silver glasses. It looked like she was wearing a large cable knit sweater - black with stripes of gold. Az almost whimpered when he saw her. She looked perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>{he would always say she looked perfect, no matter what she wore}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also realized that when he tells her about what he did to Dave that she might just get up and walk out - so this might very well be the last time he would ever see her, ever get to talk to her. So he took a moment to soak up the sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if sensing his gaze, she looked up and smiled, waving at him. He returned her smile and walked over. As he got closer, she pushed herself out of the booth and rushed to hug him. Surprised, he wrapped his arms around her slender frame, loving the feeling of her soft and lithe body against his thickness. God, she smelled good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?!” Her voice was slightly high pitched, traces of worry echoing in its tone. “You sounded so upset, I was really worried.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m okay...well, no, I’m actually not. But this is helping.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled back, staring at him for a moment. Then leaned in and gave him the smallest of kisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait...what? She kissed him. Oh! Holy fuck! She kissed him. What was happening!? Does Alicia like him? What? All the other thoughts in his head went quiet for a second - he stared, utterly shocked. “Licia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I just thought that might help too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah… can we, uh...wow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her laughter was like this beautiful music that he’d never heard before, but never wanted to go without again. “You are such an idiot. Now sit down and tell me what’s wrong.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned at her - hoping that at the end of the conversation she’ll still want to kiss him - and slid into the booth, immediately grabbing the menu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat down, putting away her books, “I already ordered you those gross chocolate chip and peanut butter pancakes you love, plus a milkshake.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did? How did you…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You get the same thing everytime, Azzy, even if they’re sorta gross.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like a peanut butter cup, but as a pancake. It’s awesome.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, now...what’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused - unsure of how to answer that question. How to even start explaining all this? Alicia has sat next to him in their African American Studies class for three months. So she’s soaked in all the same knowledge he has - everything about subjugation and prejudice and hate. And he knew she struggled emotionally when they talked about racism and hate. So, how can he even begin explaining that he pretty much personified all of the hate and prejudice that she rejected - everything that she sasw as vile and unforgivable? How do you even start telling someone you respect that you rejected someone you loved just because they were gay? How exactly do you do that? Especially when it’s all still all unformed in his head - he’s still figuring it all out. He knew he was the bad guy - he knew what he did was wrong. But he still has so much growing to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he also knew that he’d spent all this time...what’s the word...percolating. His beliefs were being overhauled. His whole sense of being - his identity - was being rewritten. He’s not the same guy he was - he knew that - he’s not the same guy who did what he did last February. And, he wanted the change - he wanted to drop the hate and embrace the pain and the work and the sweat and blood he'll have to shed so he can change. So maybe, just maybe, if she saw all that - if he could convey all that - she won’t get up and walk out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az watched as the server brought over their food - he laughed when he saw her yogurt and berries alongside a very impressively large order of fries. She smiled and tossed a fry into her mouth. He picked up his fork and suddenly stalled - he was hungry, but the burning pit of anxiety in his stomach felt overpowering. So he put it back down and looked at her. Her face had settled back into a look of worry - probably realizing whatever was going on was serious, especially if he was rejecting food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his hands across the table top, wishing this was an easier conversation. “Remember today when I asked you about hate and all that stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was like only eight hours ago, so I think I vaguely remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let her attempt at a joke roll over him, sighing and continuing to stare at the table. His brain flashed to provide him with the image of Dave’s face on the day they’d last seen each other - at McKinley, when the glee group won their whatever - the hurt and sadness in his eyes. Fuck, this was really fucking hard. He could feel tears burning in his eyes again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy, what’s wrong - you look like you’re going to cry again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like it. I’m sorry - I...I’m not really sure how to tell you all this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaned a little further over the table, and took one of his hands into hers. “Why not start at the beginning? That’s usually a good place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. Yeah, that made sense, but first he needed to know if she knew anything about what happened - “Have you heard of Dave Karofsky?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat there for a moment, he could literally see her brain working - it’s actually a beautiful thing to watch. The way she slowly chewed her food, a focused almost absent expression on her face like she’d fallen deep into her own brain. And this adorable little line appeared on her forehead - he could watch her think all day long. Then she seemed to come back into herself and gave a little nod, “Yeah - at least I think so. Wasn’t he the guy who got gay bashed and tired to take his own life last year? It was all over my highschool! I think we all got together and sent him flowers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded, already feeling even more ill at the idea of having to tell her. “Yeah. That’s him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about him Azzy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He poked at his pancakes, trembling a little, “I hope this doesn’t change things between us, Licia. Cause I like you - a lot.” Taking a deep breath, he started, “So, there was this guy, Dave, and we were best friends…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The restaurant was nearly empty now and a hush had fallen over the place - making it seem less like a greasy spoon and more like a greasy confessional. Earlier, when a large group of arts students had come in, the place had actually felt like a student hangout. Their loud and boisterous voices rattling the few quiet diners around them, except for two people sitting off in the corner - hands linked across a formica tabletop, deep in conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, as a very tired looking waitress gathered the remnants of their half eaten meal, Az grew quiet, his soul laid bare. He watched Alicia, who had her head turned to face the window - her gaze captured by something outside in the darkness. He’s not sure what she’d thought of everything he’d said, and he wondered whether she’s calculating how quickly she could race out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she was holding his hand - so that had to be a good sign, right? And he’s enjoying the feeling of her long fingers interlaced with his stubby ones, so he’s not about to break the silence that had fallen between them. He couldn’t think of another conversation that had been quite as difficult as the one he’d just had - he had never felt quite so exposed or vulnerable as he had while telling her everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think I knew I was dong the wrong thing right from the start, but I just couldn’t stop it - I’ve been against gay people for so long, that I couldn’t see past it.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d looked so sad when he said that. He had felt so dirty and like he truly was the most disgusting person alive, but he was determined to tell her everything. And he knew that part of him - the one who hated, who rejected Dave, it was smaller now - already barely there. It was ready to be excised completely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt wasted and worn, but also so much freer than he’d ever expected. And he’d never felt quite so grown up as he did at that moment. He had admitted something that some people can never admit to - that he was wrong in his hate. That he was wrong in what he did. And that he needed help. For an eighteen year old kid whose sole identity throughout high school was as an arrogant jock bully, that’s a pretty impressive step! At least he liked to think so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence between them had been growing for far too long now. So, risking rejection, he squeezed her hand - reminding her that he was still here. She pulled her attention away from the window and looked right at him, a small frown on her face. His heart dropped at the sight of that frown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a lot to take in Azzy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m sorry. I’m not that great a guy after all, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “No, that’s no true, please don’t say that. You are - you’re funny and silly and cocky and sweet. But you’re also misinformed and you need to learn that what you did was wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that Licia - I think I’ve known for a while and I want to do better. I want to be better - I want to make my mom proud of me, and you, and even Dave, if he’ll ever talk to me again. I think everything we’ve been learning in Morris’ class has really helped me see that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I can kind of tell - you’re pretty hung up on some of that stuff, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I am.” His voice grew quiet as a random quote of Fanon drifted across his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{“Oh my body, make of me a man who always questions!”}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave his hand a small squeeze and asked quietly, “Okay, so how do we do this? How do we change Azimio Adams to become a better person?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We?” He stared at her, incredulously. What was she suggesting? Was she...oh man! Az’s heart started thumping rather loudly and heavily in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia stared at him for a moment, then she let his hands go and slipped out of the booth. At first a spike of panic raced through him as he thought she was about to run off - insulted at his presumption. But instead, she sat down next to him, still smiling. It wasn’t a huge smile, but it was still a smile. She took his hand in hers again. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Azzy, you really are an idiot - I’ve been waiting for you to figure this out for a while, but I like you, a lot - as more than just a friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do.” His voice sounded a little strangled. How was this happening? And weren’t they just talking about what he was going to do about his whole homophobia problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. So, when you talk about wanting to get help, it’s not just you who's going to do that. It’s us - you and your girlfriend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...uh...I…” He really was starting to lose track of what was going on. His mind was bouncing all over the place - Alicia, Dave, Fanon, the word girlfriend...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Focus Azzy. How are you going to fix this? How are you going to get help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mom!” He almost yelled, startling her. “Uh, sorry...My mom gave me this flyer for a group called PFLAG, I’m gonna go to one of their meetings on Thursday.” He felt really hot and he was having trouble thinking clearly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In Lima?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. In the evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay - I’ll borrow my roommate’s car and drive out to come with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? For real, you’ll come with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Of course, I’ll come with you, silly. It’s gonna be scary and upsetting, so you’re gonna need someone there with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll come with me?” His voice dropped to almost a whisper - shock radiating in his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be there, I promise. We’re gonna figure this out - together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at her - this was more than he could have ever wished for. This was incredible. His heart was pounding and his skin felt a little clammy. He really wished he could call Dave right  now. He had no idea what to do, but Dave would. Dave would probably laugh at him and say something like - “Kiss her you idiot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he whispered, “I really like you Alicia. Thank you for not running out on me and for giving me a chance.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled, cupped his cheek in her soft and cool hand, and she kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As her lips touched his, that little voice in the back of his head - the one that liked to remind him of his failure as a friend or spent a lot of time quoting Fanon - spoke up.  And for the first time, he realized that voice was actually Dave’s - and it was telling him exactly what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{kiss her back kiss her back kiss her back!}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he kissed her back. His mouth moved slowly, relishing the feel of her soft lips against his. He lost himself in the smell of her perfume and the way she made this little sound at the back of her throat as his tongue touched her lips.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Az was pretty confident in his masculinity, but damn, he ain’t too big of a man to admit that when she pressed her tongue to meet his, well, he fucking moaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{he would later have to admit that their first kiss was the final step in really starting his journey towards changing. That it was the final event on that already eventful day, that would send him down a road that seemed murky and filled with uncertainty, but one he was so fucking excited to get started on. A road that would lead to so many hard tears yet to be shed} </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Alicia gripped his shirt, pulling him forward, deepening their kiss, he had two simultaneous thoughts - the first was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck! I don’t think I’m going home tonight! I’m getting laid! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Which, in retrospect, was a very eighteen year old boy thing for him to think. But the second was another Fanon quote - one that he would eventually find himself tattooing on across his bicep - </span>
  <em>
    <span>They realize at last that change does not mean reform, that change does not mean improvement</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, change means none of that - he wouldn’t just reform, he wouldn’t just improve - he would utterly rebuild himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would walk through the pain and the hurt and the tears and the sweat - and he would emerge a better person. He would no longer be a stupid ignorant child, but a man who loved and accepted and sought redemption. A man who just happened to be dating the hottest girl on earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But tonight, he realized, as Alicia pulled back out of the kiss, smiling into Az’s utterly bewildered face, lifting her other hand to get their waitress to bring the check, was about growing up in a very different way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna come back to my place with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hoped that Dave would be proud of him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. \Find Yourself In the World/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“The militant girl, in adopting new patterns of conduct, could not be judged by traditional standards. Old values, sterile and infantile phobias disappeared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>― Frantz Fanon</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>(April 2014)</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Az adjusted the volume on his truck’s stereo. He was happily swaying along to Beyonce’s Drunk in Love, and, since he was all alone in the truck today, he could crank his ‘Yonce as loud as he wanted. And there was no one to tell him to turn it down or roll their eyes when he sang along to Partition! This album was sick and no one was going to tell him otherwise! He smiled as he turned onto the street that would eventually take him to the highway, which meant he was about ninety minutes to Columbus and he could not wait to get there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been in Lima all day - running from his shift at Dunham’s Sports to a PFLAG meeting, then having lunch with his friends Steve and Mark, and finally helping his mom set up her new iPad. But now, he was free - it was Friday night, he had a hot date and didn’t need to be back here till Sunday afternoon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d promised Alicia a proper date tonight - not just movies at her place or another study date, but a real date! So, dinner at that Italian place she loved and then either that retro video game arcade or, if she wanted, heading to that drive-in theatre she kept talking about. Then sex - lots and lots of sex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he got to any of that, he was gonna need some sugar and caffeine for the drive to Columbus - otherwise this brotha was gonna fall asleep at the wheel! He started singing a little louder when he saw the Lima Bean just ahead - they made the worst coffee, according to Alicia, but he didn’t want to backtrack just to go to the Starbucks at the hospital. He’d get one of the Bean’s giant chocolate chip coffee frappes, which was kind of like having ice cream, and he’d be good to go! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he pulled into a parking spot, his backpack started to belt out Alicia Keys' Girl is on Fire. Fuck! He threw the truck into park, switch off the ignition - killing Beyonce mid lyric - and scrambled to find his stupid phone from somewhere in the depths of his seemingly bottomless bag. His hand seized on his brand new phone just in time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey baby!” He couldn’t help the massive grin from erupting on his face. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror - enjoying how happy he looked. He also took a second to admire his newly grown goatee - which made him look sexy and thoughtful, according to Alicia anyways.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Azzy! How was the meeting?” The moment he heard her voice, his whole body broke out in gooseflesh - as far as he was concerned, Alicia had the sexiest voice in the entire world. Actually, everything about her was the sexiest thing in the whole world. He bit his lip at the thought of her whispering in his ear later that night in bed while he ran his hands down her body.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was great! We talked about pronouns and stereotypes - kinda gave me some ideas for my politics of sports class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s amazing - I’m sorry I couldn’t come today, but the bookstore wouldn’t let me change shifts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay babe, I missed you though. Oh, Steve and Mark asked if we wanted to go to the movies next weekend, apparently The Drexel is showing an old movie they want to see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which one? And, god, if they make me go see Showgirls again, I don’t care how much you like them, I will not talk to them anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I made them promise not to do that to you again! It’s The Maltese Falcon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re too good to me, protecting my feminist interests. And that one’s kinda racist, but I can handle that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Me too then. They seemed excited. I said we could have dinner first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! So, are you still in Lima?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I had to run home after the meeting, mom needed help with her ipad. I’m just gonna get a coffee and then head into the city.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So by coffee, you mean a giant milkshake that pretends it’s coffee?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be dissing on my coffee, boo!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me boo, Azzy. And did you talk to your mom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sighed and let his head flop back against the headrest - “I tried. She’s still totally avoiding it. I mean, she knows we’re moving in together, but doesn’t want to talk about it. I kept trying, especially since it’s happening next month. She’s feeling crazy about the whole empty nest thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az, you have to talk to her! We’re looking at apartments next week!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying - really! And don’t yell at me, ‘Licia, I’m doing my best.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a soft noise on the other end of the phone, then in a quiet voice, Alicia said, “I’m sorry. I’m just excited that we’re doing this and I want your mom to support us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She will - she pretty much thinks you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to our family, so I know she’ll be on board with it. Look, why don’t we do it on Sunday when you come for dinner? We’ll make her listen - and then next week we’ll go look at places!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a quiet laugh, “I like that idea. Okay, so don’t be mad, but while I was at work I was kinda looking at the campus housing site and I found this cute one bedroom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I be mad! I like cute one bedrooms...emphasis on the bedroom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? You mention the bedroom, can I help it if all it makes me think about is you in bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia sighed - he couldn’t tell if it was in exasperation or desire. He got his answer when she whispered, “Just hurry up and get here, Azzy. I have a surprise for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? I like surprises.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> have gone to Victoria’s Secret after work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He actually moaned and sagged forward, his forehead slamming against the steering wheel. ”Baby...you’re killing me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But first...you have to look at the apartment! Then you get a reward.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’ve been such a good boy! And can you send me the posting?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, I’ll show you later. Are we still going out tonight or do you want to stay in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Girl, I promised you a date and a date you shall have! But now that there’s sexy underwear times... so, can we stay in first </span>
  <em>
    <span>and then</span>
  </em>
  <span> go out?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed again and he could almost see her flopping back onto her bed, maybe hugging the teddy bear he bought her. “No! I want my date! How long till I get to see you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna say two hours - if traffic is bad, and I promise I won’t speed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Liar. Okay, I’ll let you get your sugar bomb. I love you Azzy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too Licia. I’ll see you soon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the call disconnect and immediately missed her voice. But in one month, they were going to be living together. In one month, they were going to be together every single day - waking up together, going to sleep together, cooking together, doing dishes together. And there was the possibility of morning sex, afternoon sex, evening sex, nighttime sex, middle of the night sex… god, he could not wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yeah, they were only twenty, but this felt like the start of the rest of his life - no matter what anyone said! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. He ran a hand over his fuzzy head - he was proud of the little afro he was growing, and he knew Alicia found it the sexiest thing ever. Plus, it was just the next major step in embracing his black identity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az really did feel like he was coming into his own! That all his past mistakes were behind him - well most of them, he still needed to confront his biggest regret. He still needed to talk to Dave - but, he and Alicia had a plan for that. He had his whole life ahead of him, and he had this amazing woman at his side. He was on his way! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jumping out of his truck, he pulled his blue OSU hoodie over his checkered shirt and hurried into the Bean, already sure he was going to ask for extra whip on his drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Bean was busy tonight. Tons of people on coffee dates, a couple larger groups that reminded him of the many times the PFLAG group came here for a meeting hangout, and a few solo people sitting on laptops or hunched over a book. Normally he ignored whatever bullshit white music the place had on, but tonight he was surprised at the quiet music playing from invisible speakers in the ceiling. Az recognized it as Jurassic 5 - he really would like to chat with the person who felt brave enough to toss that on the ole iPod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself signing along quietly…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>… I'm saying through songs I write / My wrongs I right /If you wanna fight the power /Get the power to fight / Cuz some of us judge without knowing the man's inner / And some of us find fault in the sin and not the sinner…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt himself falling into the music a little - loving that even this song seemed to speak to him about redemption and all the work he’d done in the last two years. He found himself thinking about how essential this kind of hip-hop was! God, he couldn’t wait till his popular music and black culture class in the fall - he already had like a million ideas.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked it when places were busy in Lima. It meant that a huge black guy didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, because otherwise, people stared - a tiny look of fear marking their features. But when places were busy, he could just melt into the background. And that meant, while he was waiting for his coffee, he could just stand there thinking his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And tonight, he was thinking about everything they’d talked about at PFLAG, especially about stereotypes. He thought about stereotypes a lot - and how hard it must have been for Dave to fight against the stereotype of being a jock. Something Az knew all too well - in Lima, being a jock meant you were supposed to be stupid. And that was one thing Az was not. Heck his first year in college proved just how NOT stupid he was. And being a jock, especially in this town, meant you were supposed to be straight - a wife with two point five kids. So, for Dave, fighting that stereotype must have hurt. It was no fucking wonder Dave struggled so hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az thought about Dave a lot. A whole heck of a lot. He missed his friend, which just compounded the intense feelings of regret he had every single day. He wanted to go talk to Dave - to rebuild what they once had. But that would take time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he had a plan. A pretty good plan. He, his mom, and Alicia were going to talk to Mr. K next month. They were going to show him that Az had changed - that he’d grown up - and they were going to ask him to talk to Dave. To ask if Az could get in touch - an email. A text message. Anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to trust in the plan. He had to believe in the plan. He just hoped Dave wouldn’t give him the middle finger and hit delete. Not that he’d blame him if he did - it was probably what Az deserved.    </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az smiled as the barista handed over his extra large - perhaps too big of an extra large - chocolate chip frappe with extra whip and extra chocolate sauce. He shoved a straw into his disgusting concoction, and was just about to turn away from the counter when he heard the voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost dropped his drink as his entire body went ice cold. That voice - he hadn’t heard that voice in over two  years - and suddenly he was terrified. He wasn’t sure he could turn around - he had no idea what he’d be facing when he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was he doing here? Why was he in Lima!? He was supposed to be in New York! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stood perfectly still - hoping for a moment that it had just been his brain playing a trick. It had been more than a year since he’d heard from brain!Dave. And it had been even longer since his brain had played the imaginary Dave and imaginary Az game, so maybe it was doing it for old times sake. Then, he heard that gruff voice again - it was coming from behind the large pillar next to him. It was unmistakably Dave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s different - we were friends first, then boyfrieinds, now we’re back to being friends. So, it’s not weird when you’re in my apartment while I’m not there. Liam is a different story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az shifted to the side, so that he was nearly pressed against the pillar. He’s not sure what he’s doing or what he should do - although he’s pretty sure that he should not be eavesdropping on his former best friend. And yet...here he was. Clearly Dave was only visiting - he wasn’t back for good or anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He fell asleep while we were having sex, and then told me I reminded him of his dad...those are some red flags that I can’t just pretend aren’t there!.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, he definitely should not be listening to this! This is entirely too personal - although who the fuck talks about stuff like that in a coffeeshop? Dave would never have done that before - the Dave he knew would rather cut his own hand off than talk about anything personal in public. No, the Dve he knew, firmly believed that kind of thing had to be done behind closed doors! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He peeked out from behind the pillar. He could see the back of Dave’s head - he was sitting at a table, facing away from Az, with a laptop open in front of him, headphones in. Okay, he had to get out of here. If he moved now, if he ran right now, then Dave wouldn’t see him. That was a good thing, because he was completely sure that he couldn't handle looking into those sad and hurt eyes. Eyes that he sometimes still saw late at night. He might…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Kurt, I am not asking Scott! That ended last month, and don’t bring up last weekend! He and I aren’t going to start dating again - we were just fooling around!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe this was the universe telling him he didn’t need to rely on his plan! This might be the best chance he’d ever get to do exactly what he’s been talking about at PFLAG for a year now. This could be his chance to talk to Dave - to apologize. This could be his chance to finally say that he was sorry. All he had to do was just walk around the pillar and hope he didn’t get a fist to his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d come so far! He’d gone to weekly PFLAG meetings, he’d joined OSU’s queer society as an ally. He and ‘Licia had gone with Steve and Mark to Columbus’ pride parade. He’d taken a queer studies class. He’d admitted his ignorance and he’d worked hard to correct it! In the last year and a half, Az had worked everyday to show that he was not that narrow minded, ignorant bigot that turned his back on Dave when he needed help the most. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, this was his chance - his chance to finally show that he’d changed! That he’s a different person!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>{And it would be a chance that would irrevocably alter the course of his life} </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steeled himself to do it, he just had to walk around the pillar...then, he heard “Okay, I’m gonna go back to my dad’s before we head out to dinner with your dad and crew. I promise to call tonight with a full report on how your dad is doing. Bye Kurt. Love ya.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stood there - holding a gradually melting drink - but he had no idea what to do. He needed to act, or Dave was going to walk out of this place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sucking in a very deep breath, hoping for some bravery, he stepped forward. He moved past the pillar and stepped right into Dave’s path. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was wearing a blue polo that fit him perfectly. It wasn't one of the old baggy shirts he used to insist on, but a nicely cut shirt that hugged his strong frame perfectly. His hair was closely cropped on the sides, but carefully styled on top - it looked like an expensive haircut, certainly more than the ten bucks he used to lay down at Super Cuts or whatever. He looked bigger - broader and stronger than he used to, but still with a decent amount of weight around his middle. He looked like the Dave that Az remembered - but more. More filled out… he looked more like the version of Dave that he was meant to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as he looked up to see who was standing in his path, his entire face grew pale before settling into a hard scowl. Az could see a rush of anger burn across his skin. Clearly the moment he saw Az, he remembered everything - although probably none of the good things. He was probably remembering all the hurt and pain that Az represented - every awful homophobic slur that had been hurled at him two years ago. And then the anger dissolved into something much more painful - fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az’s heart nearly stopped at the realization that Dave was afraid of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave ducked his head down again and pushed past Az with a quiet “cuse me”, hurrying out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Az a second to realize what had just happened. His friend…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>{former friend former friend former friend} </span>
</p><p>
  <span>… was afraid. And there’s that damn voice again! Making sure he knew that he hurt Dave so badly that fear had replaced the anger and fight Dave had been known for. Fuck! He wished Alicia was here, she'd know what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reacting on instinct, he spun on his heel and ran out the door, “Wait! Dave!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was speeding away from the coffee shop - it looked like he was beelinging for a small dark green Chevy, his keys clenched in his hand. But as Az called out, he stopped and turned around. That familiar scowl was back - a combination of anger and fear, mixing to become something dangerous. Having it directed at him made Az drop his drink - it splattered onto the ground in an explosion of congealing cream and ice. He raised his hands in a ‘I mean no harm’ gesture. As he moved forward, he noticed that Dave had slipped one of the keys in between his knuckles, giving himself a weapon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave drew himself up, his anger and fear was so evident, but so was the battle not to appear weak. He practically growled, “Azimio...It’s been a while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az paused - he was suddenly not sure on how to proceed. He had imagined this moment a million times, talked it out with the folks at PFLAG and with Alicia so many times it felt like he had memorized a script. But in reality, it was so much bigger and so much scarier than he’d expected. He’d just ambushed Dave out of the blue and he had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth, hoping his brain would do some of the work for him - it was normally so active! “I...fuck...Dave.” Okay, so his brain definitely wasn’t going to help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave certainly didn’t look impressed, his scowl just deepened. “What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, this was it - this was his chance. His one chance - to say the thing he’s waited a really long time to say. He sucked in a breath and tried to put all the pain and sadness that he’d felt over what he had done, all the regret and all the sorrow and the work he’d taken on...and, just all of it. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. That’s all...I just want to say, I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked taken aback. But Az noticed that the keys were now hanging loosely in his hand. “Oh. Uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, so there had been no fist to the jaw, that was good. He sucked in a breath and hoped that whatever he said next wouldn’t be the wrong thing. “I fucked up - I fucked up so bad, Dave. And I’m so sorry. I did everything wrong - all of it. When you called and you needed someone, I should have come running. I’d promised you that I would always be there - that I would be your best friend no matter what - and I broke that promise. And I’ll never forgive myself for that. I’m so sorry, Dave. So fucking sorry...what I did...what I was...I hate myself for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az could feel himself starting to shake - it reminded him of his first PFLAG meeting, sitting in Alicia’s roommate’s car, while he cried over how ignorant he was. How stupid he’d been. He knew he’s going to start crying - well fuck. He barely heard Dave’s quiet, ‘’Az...I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” He forced himself to look at Dave, to look at those soft brown eyes. He shook his head, “Please just let me say this - Dave, I’m so sorry. I know that what I did was horrible - the way I acted, it was wrong. I did everything wrong. I know you probably can never forgive me, but I just want you to know, I’m trying to get better. I go to PFLAG meetings and I joined the queer group at OSU. My girlfriend, Alicia, and I even marched in the pride parade with them in Columbus. Dave…” Az had to stop because he’s crying so hard. Shit, he’s crying in the middle of the Lima Bean parking lot, in front of Dave. He wondered if Dave had ever seen him cry before - and then he remembered when his mom had given him his dad’s dog tags the year he turned fourteen and how hard Dave had hugged him while he cried. Fuck - fuck! Why didn’t remember that - why didn’t he remember that when Dave called him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, in a moment of utter idiocy, he said the thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t say - at least not at first. “Dave, I’m still your friend and I miss you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{it would prove to be what saved them both} </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look on Dave’s face could only be described as shock. He opened his mouth and then closed it slowly, like he was having trouble forming words or just didn't know what to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked back up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Look - I know you probably don’t want anything to do with me, I wouldn’t either. But I...I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ambushed you - I’ll leave you alone.” His confidence was quickly disappearing, he needed to get away - this is too painful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind was racing with memories of Dave and thoughts of that awful February afternoon, with a million quotes from Fanon and Baldwin…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>{With the loss of hate comes pain}</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned away, ready to just run back to his truck and get out of here - he was vaguely aware that he had dropped his drink, but the amount of adrenaline in his veins right now should be enough to get him to Columbus. He just wanted to get to Alicia. He knew he'd fucked up - he knew he shouldn’t have done it this way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should have stuck to the plan! He should have called Dave’s dad and talked to him. Asked if Mr. K. could reach out to Dave on his behalf and ask if Dave would talk to him. Exactly like he and Alicia had planned! But he shouldn’t have ambushed Dave like this! This was all wrong. He did it all wrong! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az spun around at the sound of Dave’s voice - huh? Dave was walking quickly towards him, he’d pulled his bag off his shoulder and was rooting around in it for something. Oh god, what if he had a gun or something and he was going to show Az what really happens to homophobes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, Dave pulled out a notebook. He stopped and looked at Az. “You’re really going to PFLAG?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every Friday - used to be Thursdays, but this one girl, Cindy had to take her mom to the doctors on Thursdays, so we switched.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mom. My girlfriend, Alicia. Franz Fanon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave genuinely looked perplexed. “Who the fuck is Franz Fanon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s this black philosopher I’m into.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait...what? You’re into philosophy and Franz Fanon, a black philosopher, got you to go to PFLAG? I’m very confused - who are you? Where’s the asshole I knew who used to tell me that Biggie Smalls was the only great thinker he cared about... ” Dave shook his head, but Az certainly noticed a small smile on his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t dis on Biggie! And I’m still me, Dave, just changed. I’m different. It's a long story.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shook his head again, that half smile still playing on his lips. “Obviously.” Then he opened the notebook and ripped out a page, handing it to Az, “Here - give me your number. I, uh, I threw away my old phone after everything happened - so i don’t have your number anymore. But...look...this is… different and not what I expected. I need to think about this. Okay? I can’t do this now, but maybe when I’m ready, I’ll call or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az reached out and took the paper - he nodded. “Yeah, yeah! I can do that. I mean...I kinda expected you to punch me in the face, so this I can definitely do!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to make a practice of not punching people anymore. You grew a goatee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Yeah - I’m trying to make it a practice of not being a bigot anymore. And, uh, it makes me feel more adult.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem...more adult.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. Dave - I really am sorry, I wish I could take it all back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t go back in time, Az. We just need to deal with what happened and try to move on - I had to learn that the hard way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Az held out the sheet of paper with his phone number on it. “And I’ll do whatever I can to make things up to you, Dave. I swear. Uh, what are you doing in Lima?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave took the paper, and stared at it for a while. When he looked back at Az, his eyes seemed tearful. “Thank you. I’m here, uh, so my dad and I can drive my car back to New York. Are you still living at home?” His voice actually sounded wet with tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - but Alicia and I are moving in together next month, in Columbus.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, cool. Congrats - that’s a huge move.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks - uh, how about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave glanced back towards the green Chevy and shook his head. “Look, Az, no offense, but I don’t think I can have this conversation with you in the Lima Bean parking lot - there’s a lot we need to say to each other. A lot we...look, can I just take your number and call you when I’m ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t promise it’ll be tomorrow or next week - but I will call. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I get it. What I did - fuck, man. That was… I’d understand if there was no coming back from that. So, when you’re ready - I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded and put the folded sheet of paper into his bag, tucked carefully in between the pages of a novel - Az did lean forward noticing it was Giovanni’s Room. He approved. “Thank you - and, uh, I’m happy you figured shit out, Az. You needed to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az smiled, then he held his hand out. “I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before taking and shaking it - there was a beaded pride bracelet on Dave’s wrist. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d be shaking my hand, man!” He laughed and shook his head. “Kurt and dad will never believe this. Okay. I’m gonna go now - I’ll, eh, be in touch, I guess.” Dave stood there for a moment longer before dropping Az’s hand. He smiled. “Bye.” And with that, he spun on his heel and hurried back towards the green car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stood there for a moment - unable to move. He looked down at his hand, he was still holding Dave’s pen - shit! He lifted his hand to give it back, but the man was already in his car and backing out of the parking spot. Huh, guess Az just inherited a cheap pen. He slipped it into his pocket and turned towards his truck - then he paused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d done it. He’d done the scariest thing in the world and he’d come out the otherside! He’d talked to Dave! And Dave had talked to him! There had been anger - but not as much as he’d expected. It had felt as thought Dave had been expecting him - expecting him to want to bridge the gap between them! That Az would one day grow up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The amount of adrenaline surging through him was incredible! He’d talked to Dave! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On a whim, he ran back towards the Bean while pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Alicia number. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt lighter - freer somehow. He felt like everything over the last two years had been worth it. He’d done the one thing he’d set out to do - the thing that had meant so much to him - he’d apologized. And Dave had listened. Dave had talked to him - they’d had an actual conversation! It hadn’t been much, but it had been something. No blood had been shed. He wasn’t going to have to go in for dental surgery or anything. He’d done it. And Dave had taken his number - that was...that was amazing! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard Alicia pick up - “Azzy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Licia! You won’t believe what just happened!” He sounded euphoric! And he felt like it too! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” She laughed at his excitement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I talked to Dave!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! Hold on! Lemme get in my room…” There was the sound of footsteps and then a door closing. “Okay! Oh my god! Azzy! Tell me everything!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az felt the air around him - it felt different. He felt different. He felt seen - his new self. His changed self had been seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He took my number!” Az suddenly had to stop. He froze in his tracks - he felt the tears starting to burn. “He took my number Alicia. He wants to talk...when he’s ready...Alicia, I did it...I…” Az broke down, his tears hot and salty on his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Azzy.” Alicia’s voice was gentle and he could hear her own tears. “Azzy - come home. Okay, just come home now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming. Alicia - I think it was all worth it. I think...I might get my friend back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Az pushed himself up against the wall at the head of the bed, trying to make himself comfortable by bunching a small pile of pillows against his back. Once he was sitting up comfortably, he pulled Alicia’s soft purple sheets over his naked body - covering his massive bulk. He loved her room - she had managed to transform a standard dorm room into this little oasis. Everything was deep lush purples with the welcoming softness of pillows and warm blankets. And everything seemed touched with the afrocentric style that she clothed herself in. She had a huge MLK poster hanging over the bed and a Black Lives Matter sign over the desk, right next to a poster of Beyonce - it was a room that was so perfectly Alicia. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His one complaint, however, was the size of the bed. He was a big guy after all - not massive, but definitely big - so squishing him and Alicia onto this fucking lame-ass twin size bed was one of the biggest hardships of his life! He shuffled a little closer to one side of the bed, making sure that there was more than enough room for her when she got back from having a shower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over at her bedside table - which she’d proudly told him was not standard OSU dorm room issue - and saw that she was reading that Tori Morrison book he’d loved from his African American Literature class. He reached over and grabbed it - might as well kill time while she was showering. It was either that or relive the sex they’d just had...which was not a bad option either! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or he could just think about that half-smile on Dave’s face earlier and how proud he’d been to see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he’s about to start the first chapter, he heard a small cough from the doorway - glancing up, he saw Alicia in her long purple robe watching him with a smile on her face. She was like walking sex personified. He dropped the book and opened his arms, “Come here sexy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and moved to put her shower tote away, “Give me a minute, you horn dog.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said I wanted more sex - not that I’d complain - I just want you to come here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boy - I can read you like an open book, I know exactly what you’re hoping for.” Alicia carefully hung her towel over the hook on the back of her door, and sauntered towards the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az pouted slightly. “I promise that I’ll behave. How was your shower?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cannot wait until I move out of this fucking dorm room - I am so tired of sharing a shower with an entire floor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also tired of sneaking your boyfriend into your room.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that too. Although everyone knows you by now, so no one cares.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s cause I won them over with my charm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you call that thing that you pretend is a personality?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az put on a mock hurt face. “Oh! OH! I...am wounded. My honor and pride! I’m not talking to you anymore! After the date I took you on, this is the treatment I get…” Az huffed dramatically and turned away to face the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Alicia climb onto the bed, wrapping her arms around him. Her laughter was soft and quiet. “Azzy, I’m sorry I hurt your pride - come on. You are the most charming man in the world. No one is as charming as my handsome boyfriend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Humph!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia laughed. “Come on, you sexy beast! Look at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, I’m gonna sleep just like this. Then when I can’t move properly tomorrow, you’ll feel bad!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna deny yourself cuddle time just to prove a point.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...my pride as a man is more important.” He struggled not to laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an idiot, but I love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, but still not gonna give in...unless…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her laughter got louder. “Unless?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You kiss me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I can do.” She yanked on him until he turned to face her, then straddled his waist and leaned down to kiss him - her robe falling open. He sighed as he slid his hands against her soft skin. She was still  warm from the shower with small droplets of water clinging to her skin. He leaned forward and nuzzled her breasts while holding her lightly at the waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you so much, Alicia.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Azzy. And I’m proud of you for today - talking to Dave like that took guts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m glad he didn’t hit me or run me over with his car or something.” As he leaned in to kiss her as she ran her hand through his slightly frizzy hair. He loved the way her fingernails scraped lightly against his scalp. When her hand cupped his cheek, he nuzzled into her palm. His heart felt so warm and full. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy, from what you’ve told me - maybe he just wanted you to reach out. Maybe he needed to see that you’ve made an effort - it’s those little things! I hope he reaches out soon!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too - he just needs time. And the least I can do is give him that!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so proud of you baby. And thank you for tonight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s talk about something else right now, otherwise I’m just going to stress about when he’s going to call. And I’m glad you had fun - I did. Next time I’m gonna kick your butt at pinball though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can try. You never will, but you can try.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait till we play Mario Kart! The only person who ever kicked my ass at that was Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope he gets to do it again soon. And do you want to look at that apartment before bed?” She grabbed her phone and slid off his lap, stretching out on the bed and nestling against his chest. Az watched as she opened the off campus website on her phone, tapping on a listing for some place called the Jefferson. He could see hardwood floors, chrome appliances, big bright windows - not at all what he thought his first student apartment would be like!</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She held the phone up, he could feel her smiling against his skin. “Okay, so it’s in our price range - nine hundred - and it’s like fifteen minutes from campus, plus they allow pets, so we could get a cat eventually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t even looking at the phone anymore, his eyes were drawn to her face - her beautiful, smiling face - and he knew he’d say yes to anything she wanted. Except for maybe the cat part. “It’s perfect, baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced up at him, her smile widening. “I talked to my dad today too, he’ll co-sign with us since we’re not twenty-one yet. Think your mom will too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll convince her - we should go look at it tomorrow. What do you think? If we want it, we can drive to Lima tomorrow night and talk to mom.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned as her phone fell from her hand and she twisted her body into him again, wrapping her arms around his stomach. “Yes!” Then he was being pulled down into a searing kiss - he moaned loud enough that anyone next door probably heard him. Her leg was moving slowly along his thigh and he felt himself hardening again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Groaning in joy, he flipped her onto her back and climbed on top, pressing his lips to her collarbone. She swatted his arm - “I thought you didn’t want more sex!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you showed me that sexy apartment and all I could think about was you wandering around in that sexy underwear from earlier in our living room...and well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gross...but while you’re up there, how about you go a little further south? I really like the side effect of you having a beard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, I told you the goatee would come in handy!” Az gave her a devilish smile as he slid down her body - laughing softly when she started pushing him down faster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, long after the need for yet another shower, both Az and Alicia slept. They were curled into the comma of each other’s bodies, dreaming of perfect apartments and the gradual process of becoming adults and citizens of their world.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in the muted darkness - because Alicia would be the first to tell you that her damn dorm room was never fully dark - Az’s phone lit up. When he awoke the next morning - before convincing her to go to Sloppy’s for breakfast - they would read in stunned silence - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey - it’s Dave. I just wanted to say I’m glad you came to talk to me today. Thank you for saying you’re sorry. It meant so much to me, friend. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And the next stage on Az’s pilgrimage to celebrate at the altar of change had begun...he just had no idea of the horrors that waited for him there. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. \Revelations of a Man/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>
  <span>(August 2014)</span>
</h3><p>
  <span>“Every one of my acts commits me as a man. Every one of my silences, every one of my cowardices reveals me as a man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy, why are you awake and quoting Fanon on a Saturday morning at nine a.m.?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I woke up thinking about my black cinema paper. And I wanted to see if maybe I could use Fanon in it.” Azimio was sitting up in bed, his favorite copy of The Franz Fanon reader open on his lap, with a pencil posed ready to mark off particular passages. He had their really soft duvet - a gift from his mom - tucked around his waist and a cup of coffee cooling on his bedside table. The room was bathed in a soft white light from the large windows next to the bed, which usually had blackout curtains covering them - another gift from his mom - but he’d opened them enough to let in some natural reading light.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az loved everything about his bedroom - well, actually he loved everything about his apartment. But he really loved his bedroom. It was painted a light beige color, which they’d let Mark and Steve pick out, with a large queen sized bed that was covered in purple pillows and soft blankets. Plus, Alicia had covered almost every possible surface with plants - the whole room seemed to breathe lightness and freshness. It was - as everyone said - a very adult bedroom for two twenty-one year old kids. But he was proud of it, and he was even more fucking proud that he got to share it with his amazing girlfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A girlfriend who was glaring at him, grumpily from beneath the duvet. “At nine in the morning? On a Saturday?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m writing about Spike Lee - and masculinity. I just don’t know what I want to say yet.” Az shrugged as if that perfectly explained his reading Fanon aloud early on a Saturday morning. He slipped his glasses off his nose - the glasses were new, apparently spending nearly two years doing nothing but reading can really change your eyes - and rubbed his now fully bearded face. He turned to look down at his gorgeous girlfriend, who was almost completely invisible beneath their duvet cover - only the top of her head and her eyes were visible. He smiled as he slipped his hand under the blanket and stroked her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you need to figure that out now? In our bed? Out loud?” She buried her face in her pillow. “Why can’t you be like other twenty-one year olds and get drunk and then sleep all day?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I woke up and was just wide awake! Just couldn’t stop thinking about the paper, so I figured that I’d get some work done. And you’d hate it if I was like that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would. I prefer you like this, my sexy African American Studies scholar. Although, if you were a drunken idiot, you might let me sleep in on Saturday mornings.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I have my sights set on grad school in two years! And I gotta keep my grades up to get that scholarship. I’m sorry I woke you boo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me boo, Azzy. And it’s okay, but could you be a little less...vocal in your brainiac ways? I don’t think the admissions people at UCLA or Columbia or wherever would mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled as he stroked her shoulder. “Yeah - do you want me to move to my desk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” She nestled deeper into the blankets, nuzzling against him. “Then I couldn’t cuddle you, but could you just be less...academic for a Saturday morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I could do this later and...make your Saturday morning a bit less sleepy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “God, you’re incorrigible! How many times did we do it last night?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three! If we start early today, I bet we can do better than that.” He stuck his tongue out at her and made a lude face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed softly, “You’re a monster! But yeah, put Fanon away and get down here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes ma'am!” Az dropped the book on the floor, tossed his glasses on the side table and dove back under the covers, pulling her close to him. He pressed his face into her skin and traced a line along her neck with his tongue. She shuddered in his arms and moaned - god, he loved the way she moaned for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved with aching slowness down to tease her nipples, deciding that Fanon could go screw himself, he had much better things to do this morning. And as her long legs hooked themselves over his hips, he forgot completely about Fanon and Spike Lee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Az stood in front of their fridge, frowning at the contents. He was wearing only a pair of shorts, so his skin was starting to goosebump from the cold air of the open fridge, but he didn’t really care. He was more concerned about how badly they needed to go grocery shopping. And he hated grocery shopping - it was like the one adult thing that he’d gladly give up if he could. Well, that and cleaning the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slammed the fridge door closed and turned towards the open bathroom door, “Hey baby! We don’t have a lot of food! I think we need to hit up a store today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched in absolute amazement as Alicia stepped out of the bathroom, long and lean, with her dark brown skin gleaming with moisture, wrapped in a fluffy white towel. God, she got more and more beautiful every single day. She was swathing her hair up into a turban and was frowning at him. “Shit - I can’t Azzy. Remember, I’m meeting Alan and Sandra to work on that Sociology group project.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit, right! Guess I could go on my own - not as much fun though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do that! We can figure it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He smiled and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. “I kind of just want to hang out here and work on my paper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you do. You’re gonna spend the day being all nerdy with your Fanon…” She slid her arms around his waist, which he was trying to chisel down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He presses his lips against her forehead, muttering against her skin, “And Spike Lee!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re ridiculous</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love me this way. And do you wanna do groceries tomorrow, before I have to go to work?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure! And I love you exactly the way you are. Okay, I’m gonna go get ready! And let’s just go out tonight - let’s be the stupid kids that we’re suppsed to be! We can have a dinner date!” She kissed him, languishly, before moving slowly into the bedroom, quietly humming a Beyonce song, which he approved of wholeheartedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az wandered back into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl to make himself some cereal. He plopped down on one of the stools at the kitchen island - a gift from Alicia’s dad - opening a copy of the Spike Lee reader. He’d just started bell hooks’ essay when Alicia wandered back into the living room - she was wearing this beautiful flowy halter top jumper that showed off her beautiful arms and prominent collarbone. He noticed she was wearing the amber pendant necklace he’d given her for Valentine’s day. God, he could write a thesis on how beautiful she was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Putting down the book, he watched happily as Alicia wandered around the apartment, gathering everything she needed for her study date. She plunked her huge shoulder bag down onto the counter and moved to stand between his legs, wrapping her arms around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you get bored being here by yourself, call me and you can crash the party at the library.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know that won’t happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m gonna come home this afternoon and find you at your desk - and you won’t have moved all day, not even for a bathroom break! Maybe try to remember to shower?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get lost in my work - you know that. So many ideas that need exploring!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God Azzy, you were born to be an academic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember how hard my mom laughed when you told her that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Idiot jock turned black scholar, a true coming of age story. Promise you’ll at least drink water…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled and leaned in to kiss him. Her whispered ’‘I love you” was hot against his lips. He moaned and whispered it right back. And then she sailed out the door, leaving the scent of lilacs and honey wafting after her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az turned back to his book, finishing hook’s chapter before heading into the bedroom and pulling on a tank top. He could shower later...probably after Alicia had come back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked up his discarded Fanon reader and made his way back into the living room. It wasn’t a huge living room, but they’d managed to make it surprisingly roomy - with a smallish coach acting as a divider between the kitchen and living room. And off to one corner, they set up two  small desks, facing each other. His desk - a disaster as always - was covered in printed articles, books, dozens of essay drafts, his laptop and a tiny collection of photos - mostly of Alicia, his mom and Dave. Her desk, naturally, was spotless - only a small pile of books. He flopped down on his desk chair, shoved a pile of papers to one side, and turned on his laptop. The hooks’ essay and that Fanon quote from this morning had given him an idea - what if silence and masculinity were linked in Lee’s films? And what if being vocal was somehow associated with femininity in them? Yeah, it was time to research the fuck outta this paper.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if that meant he ended up having to watch Do the Right Thing again, well at least it was in the name of research.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three hours later, he was so absorbed by an article on race and the performance of masculinity that he almost didn’t hear his phone ringing. Grunting slightly, he leaned back and stretched - his back cracking audibly. Pushing himself up from his desk, he turned towards the kitchen where the phone was kicking up a storm on the kitchen island. Just as he moved around the couch, the phone fell silent. He frowned and picked it up - it might be Alicia, needing him to bring her something she’d forgotten, or his mom wanting to ask about dinner tomorrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke his phone up - nearly dropping it when he saw the name next to the missed call notification: Dave Karofsky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t heard from the guy in months - not since the scant few text messages they’d exchanged after seeing each other at the Lima Bean back in April. But now he was calling? Why was he calling? He waited a moment to see if a voicemail notification came up. None did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Should Az call him back? That would be the polite thing to do, right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood there for so long, locked in a state of indecision, that his phone fell back asleep. Yeah, he would call back. Even if it had been a mistaken call… at least it would show Dave that he was responsible enough to call back and check in. Before he got the chance to do anything, his phone lit back up with another call - Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az answered, hoping his voice sounded normal - “Hello?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long pause and then Dave’s quiet voice, sounding a little unsure and extremely sad, “Hey Az.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az shut his eyes - he had to be normal and act like this was no big deal. “Hey Dave! Wow! I didn’t expect to hear from you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...uh...surprise? I guess.” The sadness in Dave’s voice made him sound tired, like he was dealing with something that was too heavy for even him to bear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay..” Before Az could even get the question out, Dave interrupted him, practically shouting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in Columbus!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az was confused - why would Dave be in Columbus. “Uh, what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a loud audible sigh. Then, softer, “I’m in Columbus. I promised that I’d call, and I…you said you wanted to talk. So, uh, I’d like to talk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az had to sit down - his hand shot out and grabbed the counter, which he used to slowly lower himself to one of the kitchen stools. He nodded to the empty apartment, as if Dave were in the room with him. But he’s not sure he could trust himself to talk - this is the moment he’d dreamt for almost the last two and a half years! He was being given his chance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az? You there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Oh right, he actually hadn’t said anything. He sucked in a breath, “Sorry - I was just really not expecting that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause, then in a small voice that almost sounded far too familiar for Az’s liking, “Please Az. I...I need...a friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az felt instantly cold - something was happening. “Shit dude, of course - I’m sorry. I guess I kind of stopped hoping…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a small tearful laugh. “Fair enough. But...do you have time today? I know it’s short notice...I just…” Dave trails off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where do you want to go? We’re both twenty-one now right, we can go to a bar - there’s a nice one not far from my place.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m…” There was that pause again - sending cold shivers up Az’s spine. “Okay, don't freak out, but can I just come over?” Dave sighed again, but this time he didn't just sound tired, he sounded weary. “I just...please Az?” There it was again - that small voice, so heavy with worry and hurt. Exactly like that February afternoon. There’s no way Az would say no this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course. I can text you the address - I don’t have a lot here, I think there’s a couple beers in the fridge and maybe a bag of chips.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait…” Dave’s tone switched, he suddenly sounded extremely nervous, “Is your girlfriend home?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - she’s out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Relief was evident in his voice,  “I’ll get some stuff - okay, text me your address, I’ll be there soon.” Then the call disconnected and Az was left sitting in his kitchen, unsure what had just happened - and even more unsure about what was coming. But one thing was for sure - this was his chance. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> chance. Dave clearly needed a friend, he needed help and Az would be damned if he wasn’t going to give him exactly that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly sent Dave his address and then jumped off the stool, hurrying to have a shower. As he shucked off his shorts and tank, he sent Alicia a quick message - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dave called! He’s coming over! I’m not sure what’s happening, but I’ll call you as soon as I know. I love you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the hot water pounded down onto his head, all he could think about was that horrible February afternoon - and the sound of anguish in Dave’s voice. He couldn’t stop thinking about it because he’d just heard that same anguish in Dave’s voice just now, only it seemed muted or held back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he absentmindedly poured some shampoo into his hands, mistakenly using Alicia’s expensive shampoo, he found himself fighting against the sense of utter panic that was surging in his chest. And it wasn’t just because he and Dave were about to talk, but he could feel something was coming - something bad. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. \The Wretched and the Saved/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“The more the people understand, the more watchful they become, and the more they come to realize that finally everything depends on them and their salvation lies in their own cohesion, in the true understanding of their interests, and in knowing who their enemies are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>- Franz Fanon</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Their couch was an old hand-me-down from Alicia’s dad - it was brown and plush and Az always managed to find the most uncomfortable spot every time he sat down. Today, however, he was uncomfortable for a whole new reason - he’s perched on the edge of it, staring at his phone and willing it to ring so he could open the front door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d changed into his best pair of jeans and his PFLAG-allyship t-shirt, which might be laying it on a bit thick, and he’s wearing his gold framed reading glasses. He’s not sure why he felt the need to wear the glasses - he doesn’t really need them since he wasn’t reading anything, but he loved how they look on his face. They made him look smart - and he liked to think that Fanon would’ve worn something similar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his phone does go off - loud in the empty apartment - he almost dropped it out of shock. But he managed to answer it, immediately pressing 9 to to open the door - he knew who it was. He got up off the couch and went to wait by the door - he felt so nervous and unsure of how to handle this. His hands were clammy and his whole back was a sheen of sweat. He was so worked up that he almost screamed when Dave knocked on the door. Sucking in a deep breath, he reached out and opened it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked...well, he looked like crap. His hair, unlike the last time they saw each other, was no longer carefully styled - it was messy and longish. He had so much stubble on his face that he was maybe a day or two away from having a full beard and his eyes looked haggard. There were dark heavy bags under his eyes. And he was wearing a rumpled purple NYU t-shirt and shorts that ended mid-thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked like the whole world was weighing down on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled sadly, “Hey Az.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Dave.” It took Az all of one second to realize that this was more than just a chance to reclaim what they once had, this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> chance. Clearly, Dave was in pain and something bad had happened, and out of all the people he could have gone to, he’d picked his former best friend. Whatever was coming - he had to make it count. Az stepped back and opened the door wider, “Come on in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Dave walked in - he had a twelve pack of Samuel Adams beer under his arm and a large shopping bag in the other. “You said you didn’t have anything, so I bought a bunch of shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, uh, just dump it on the counter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded and moved over to the kitchen, he plunked the twelve pack down and started unpacking the shopping bag - taking out what looked like an infinite amount of chips and cheetos. Then he opened the box of beer and silently started putting bottles into the fridge. He grabbed two and with a twist of his wrist, opened them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning, he held a bottle out, “Here, drink.” Az took the beer and sipped it. Dave, however, upended the bottle and chuged about half of it in one go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Dave. Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave lowered the bottle and looked around, clearly deciding to ignore the question. He moved into the living room, taking in the sofa, bookcases, the two desks and the small entertainment center. He paused at the bookcases and picked up a photo of Alicia. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This your girlfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s Alicia. She’s, uh, at the library studying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool. What’s she studying?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sociology - she’s in the pre-law program.” Az took another sip of his beer - he’s not sure what’s happening, but there was this tension in the air. It felt like Dave was testing him or something - as if there’s this checklist that Dave was going through to make sure Az really had changed or was trustworthy. And only after all the criteria had been certified, then Az would be brought into whatever awfulness was going on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice. Good for her. I’m deciding between pre-med or business management now.” He put the photo down, careful to straighten it so it was exactly in the same position as when he’d picked it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to be a doctor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - well, maybe. We’ll see. Things are...who knows.” Dave’s face was suddenly filled with even more sadness than before, as if he’d just thought of something that put everything in doubt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az searched for something to say - something that would help whatever this situation was, something that would prove to Dave that he’d come to the right person. But all he could do was lamely exclaim, “Well, that’s awesome! Will you stay in New York for medical school?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he got in response was Dave downing the rest of his beer and then moving to the fridge to get another one. “You should catch up - I’ve waited a long time to get smashed with you, why not today huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded, “Uh, sure.” He took another smallish sip of his beer - something told him that he needed to have his wits about him - that whatever was coming, he would need to be as sober as possible. Only after whatever revelation was revealed, would he let himself start slamming back the beers. He had a feeling he’d need it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as Dave wandered over to his desk - picking up the textbook for his Black Cinema studies class - the Spike Lee Reader. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This more of that black philosopher you like?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh - no, Spike Lee’s a director, Franz Fanon is the philosopher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know who Spike Lee is, Az. I have seen a movie or two in my time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right - uh, sorry.” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, awkwardly watching Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shook his head and started flipping through the book, frowning. Shoving his thumb between pages, he pushed idly at the papers on Az’s desk. “This is worse than your desk back home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Alicia hates it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you write essays like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you believe me if I told you I maintained a three point nine GPA with that desk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave paused his snooping and looked at Az, surprise on his face. “Fuck you - you did not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got on the dean’s list last semester.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded, but Az saw a look of approval on his face. He went back to poking at the desk. Finally, he snapped Az’ textbook shut and twisted it around in his hands while looking at the corkboard Az had above his desk - it was mostly covered with photos of Alicia, a few Black Lives Matter flyers, and stuff for his classes. It also had a photo of Az and Dave - they were seven, playing football. Dave was staring at that photo - he took a look drink of his beer. Then, without turning around, said quietly, “I hated you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Az stepped forward, his hands were starting to shake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After what you did - the way you rejected me. The way you...turned away from me. I hated you. And I was so disappointed in you - we were best friends. After everything - all the bullshit we’d gone through! You...you just shit on all of that. You shit on me. Like I wasn’t a human being. Like I wasn’t the guy who went with you to see your dad’s grave in Arlington!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Dave - oh god, I know. I think even from the start I knew that what I was doing was wrong. It was so fucking wrong. I did all of it wrong. All of it. I shouldn’t have rejected you - you’re my best friend. And...I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I...I’ve hated myself for it too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I almost died, Az.” Dave was still facing away from him, staring at the corkboard - he reached out and touched the photo of them. “I needed you so bad, Az. I needed my friend. And you weren’t there - you let me believe I shouldn’t exist.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I am going to hate myself for that...for the rest of my life.” Az could feel that his breaths were coming faster and faster - he felt like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All I wanted...was my friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was so lost in my own bigotry, I lost sight of how close we were. And I...fuck...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...fuck just about sums it up.” Dave sighed and turned back to Az, he was crying. “Fuck perfectly describes it. How could you do that to me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have an excuse. I’ve never had one. I just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just what, Az?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d spent so much time trying to figure out how to explain this to Dave. How he would explain what he’d felt - what he’d done. “It was like... it wasn’t good enough that it was you. What I felt - how I felt - was bigger than you. Even though I could remember every single fucking thing you and I were - I couldn’t get past that one stupid insignifant thing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fuc…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az felt the words rushing out of him like a volcano - “And it was such a fucking small thing! Who the fuck cares who you sleep with! Who the fuck should care about that!? Not me - I shouldn’t have cared a fucking thing about that! But I didn’t know any better - and do you know something fucked up!? I don’t know why! I have no fucking idea why I thought that! I just did! And it almost killed you!” Az sagged - wiping his tears furiously. He finished in a small whisper, “I almost killed you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stood there - watching him. He took a small step towards Az. “Do you want to know something else that’s fucked up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I was sitting in the hospital - crying my fucking eyes out because everyone expected me to try and do it again - I prayed you’d come see me. I had like a million visitors - Kurt, my dad, Santana, even fucking Blaine - and everytime it was all wrong. Because I wanted you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I don’t even know what to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I just need you to know how badly you hurt me. But...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?” Az stepped a little closer to Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t the catalyst that put me on that chair, okay? It was all of it together - I know that now. Would it have been harder for me to do it if you were there for me, yeah maybe. But there’s a chance I would have still done it. So, you didn’t almost kill me - my brain, my self hate did that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I..I just wish I knew what to say.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I just wish...I wish I could've had my friend for the last two years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Do you know how often I’ve wished I could go back in time and fix it. But I swear, I’m not that guy anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave turned away again, muttering a quiet “Fuck.” He ran his hand through his hair, then stared at it, before wiping it off on his shorts. Az could see that his entire body was shaking, as though he’s barely keeping his emotions in check.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az wasn’t sure if they’ve finished talking about what happened or if the air was cleared - it sure as shit didn’t feel clear. But something else was happening to Dave, he needed to try and help, “Dave - tell me what’s wrong, please… I can help you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave turned to look at Alicia’s desk - again completely ignoring Az. He tucked Az’s textbook into the crook of his arm, and started thumbing through Alicia’s stuff - he glanced at Az, almost daring him to say something to stop his snooping. When he spoke next, his voice sounded even more strained. “Why did you start going to PFLAG?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I - uh, I needed to learn that the way I felt about gay people was wrong. And I needed to find a way to get past my own idiocy and be a better person. I wanted to change - I needed to change!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And have you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az had no idea how to fully describe the process of change that he’d gone through - should he tell Dave about how he and Alicia spent almost every Friday night with Mark and Steve from PFLAG, or should he tell Dave about how last month he counselled a young girl who was having trouble accepting her brother was gay, or should he tell Dave about how he’d spent every day of the last two years trying to find as many small ways as possible to make up for his mistakes of the past? </span>
</p><p><span>All of these things seemed insignificant to him - they barely started to encompass who he has become. All of these things were barely a scratch on the surface of who he will continue to become. So he went for good ole Fanon - “They realize at last that change does not mean reform, that change does not mean improvement.”</span> </p><p>
  <span>Dave turned around, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az put down his beer and rolled up his sleeve - showing off the cursive script tattoo. “It’s something Fanon wrote - it means that when you change, you cannot just reform or improve yourself, you have to completely rebuild yourself from the ground up. You need to discard everything and become something new.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m no longer the guy you remember, Dave. I really have changed - I know it’s not worth a lot, but I would never do what I did to anyone again. I’m not that person anymore - I swear it. I don’t look at gays anymore and see anything but a person. I look at you now, and you're just Dave, my best friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stared at him. Then he smiled, it was a small smile, but it was a smile. “I never thought I’d see the day that my idiot friend would quote philosophy at me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Believe me it’s a shock to me too. And wait till I tell you about what I want to do with my life. My mom...she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself about it all. She comes to PFLAG with me in Lima, by the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mom was always awesome.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better than her idiot son anyways.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just shrugged and walked into the kitchen - still carrying Az’s book - and got himself another beer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az struggled to find something to say - that gut wrenching sense of worry was still roiling in his stomach. “Uh, how’s your dad? Are you staying with him while you’re here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Haven’t been home...not sure I will be.” Dave fell silent again, drinking his beer and fiddling with the book. He leaned against the counter and sighed - shoulders slumped and his face was a mask of sadness, eyes locked on the floor in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave…” Az needed to try again. He thought about PFLAG and how the group leaders always gave people  the space and time to slowly come out of their shells. He remembered his first meeting, and the patient way they all waited for him to talk. He remembered Alicia’s hand in his while he struggled to find the words to say what he needed to say. He needed to try and take that approach. He also remembered that Dave didn’t always handle directness all that well. “...uh, do you want to sit down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave didn't respond, he continued to stare at the floor - Az could really see his eyes anymore. Then slowly, Dave lifted his head. Az was shocked at how unbearably sad Dave looks, his eyes were wet with tears and exhaustion. He licked his lips and opened his mouth - jaw working slowly. Az just gave him space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then all at once - in a moment terrifyingly reminiscent of junior year - Dave changed. The sadness and hurt were gone, and anger - pure unadulterated anger - spread across his face. He screamed - “MOTHERFUCKER!” - and hurled the book across the room. Az lept back. He was  so startled that he dropped his beer - it splashed all over the floor. The book slammed against the far wall, almost knocking a Basquiat poster off the wall - and fell limply to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave's whole body seemed to curl into itself as he crossed his arms and hunched over. His body shaking violently with barely controlled sobs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az didn’t know what to do. Was this all because of Az? All because of what he did two years ago? Was this Dave releasing all that pent up anger and hurt from what happened to him? He wanted to hug his friend, he wanted to try and quell the panic and pain that’s wafting off of Dave like heat waves. But he had no idea what to do or how to do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly he inched forward, his hand reaching out and gently touching Dave’s shoulder. The man practically launched himself at Az, pulling him into a tight hug and pressing his face onto Az’s shoulder. He’s weeping and clutching at Az’s shirt. He realized that Dave was saying something - it sounded like a question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gingerly, he pushed Dave back a bit, so he could hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you really still my friend?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Yes, Dave, I swear, I’m still your friend. I swear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, in a moment that truly seemed to echo a telephone call more than two years ago, which turned into Az’s most shameful act, Dave whispered softly, “Help me...I don’t know what to do, Az. I’m scared and I need help!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, Az was given his second chance - he’s given what he’s wanted for so long, to show Dave that he can be trusted. That he’s still the friend that Dave always thought he was. That just like so many moments in their past, Az can and will support his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{He will later wish that chance had come in any form but this}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, we’re gonna get you calmed down and then we’ll talk. And whatever you need, I’m here. I promise, I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az moved fast - everything his mom had taught him about looking after someone in need kicked into overdrive. He pushed Dave over to the couch, got him to take his shoes off, and then produced a large glass of water. While Dave slowly drank the water, Az cleaned up the spilled beer - Alicia would murder him otherwise. He collected the book from where Dave had thrown it and carefully replaced it on his desk. The whole time, Dave watched him silently from the couch - still sniffling. His whimpers just propelled Az to move faster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped for a moment, staring at the pile of junk food Dave had brought with him. Dave always liked to eat when he was upset, so he grabbed a bag of chips and plopped down on the couch - instantly notching every lump and roll of the cushion he was sitting on. “Okay… whatever’s going on. Let’s talk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave leaned back, his head flopping onto the back of the sofa. He stared up at the ceiling and shook his head - tears still running down his cheeks. “I’m sorry for just calling you out of the blue - I uh, I didn’t know where else to go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it something to do with your dad? Is that why you’re back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Dad doesn’t know I’m here - I just...I just got in my car and I drove.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait? You drove from New York?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long did that take you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About ten hours. I got here about two days ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az gaped at Dave - panic rising in his chest. “Dave! Where have you been staying? What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave avoided the question by asking one of his own - what Az only assumed was rhetorical. “Why has every single part of me being a gay man been a disaster, Az?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand, Dave…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was repressed for so long - hated myself for so long. Even when Kurt offered me acceptance and understanding, I spat in his face. Then… coming out, nearly killed me. Why can’t one part of me being gay just be… fucking normal!” Dave’s voice was anguished. That immense sadness and exhaustion was back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az watched Dave for a moment, wishing he knew more about what he should do. But he didn’t. “Dave, I wish I could… I’m sorry, but I don’t know what’s going on - please, you gotta give me something here. Does anyone know you’re even here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I called Kurt just before I came over - he was really worried.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah! Your boyfriend would be worried…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not my boyfriend anymore - we broke up halfway through first year. He’s just back to being my best friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az ignored the small pang of hurt over Dave calling Kurt his best friend, but he also remembered the overheard conversation at the Lima Bean...mentions of Liam or someone. “Okay. So, you drove all the way here - you didn’t tell your best friend that you were doing this. You’ve been staying… somewhere for the last couple nights and you don’t want to go home to your dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s sigh was so deep and he leaned forward, gripping his water glass so tight that Az’s worried it’ll break. “Az...I need you right now. I need to know you won’t freak out - that you’re okay with me being gay. I need to know… that you won’t hurt me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t. I promise. I’m don’t care that you’re gay, Dave. And if I do hurt you or say the wrong thing, you can tell Alicia and she’ll make sure the PFLAG group strings me up by my balls and beats me like a pinata.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a fun time. But you can handle talking about gay stuff? We used to be able to talk to each other about anything - well, me being gay was always off the table, I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can handle that - I told you, whatever it is, I’m here. I won’t push you away or hurt you or anything. I’m not that guy anymore.” Az tried so hard to express his commitment in his words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you swear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On my mom’s life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sat there, silent. He stared at the floor then he nodded - making a silent decision. “No one else knows yet, not even Kurt...I couldn’t tell him. He’d be so disappointed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he’s your friend, he wouldn’t be. But I won’t judge - and I won’t be anything but what I am. Your friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave took a deep breath. He sat up a little more, as though fortifying himself. His voice - sounded detached, like he’d separated himself from the story. “His name was Scott.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay - who is Scott?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was dating him for a while - about seven months ago. We were going pretty hot and heavy for a while there. I guess you could say he was my fourth or fifth real boyfriend - after Kurt and this really hot guy named Lee and a couple other guys. You would have approved of Lee - he was this insanely sexy black guy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once you go black…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If only I hadn’t gone back.” Dave sipped his water again. “Right...anyways, I met Scott at this...club in New York. The Cubbyhole, it's this bear bar.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I am - in the gay community, anyways. A bear - big, hairy and bearded.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would I be a straight bear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remind me later, there’s a few people I want to text.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed sadly. “Anyways, Scott - I met him at this bar. We hit it off - went back to his place, had sex. And then had brunch the next morning. He’s older than I am - twenty-four. And it was...well it was awesome. We started dating. And I actually thought it might be...that this might be the right one. Like I felt about him the same way I felt about Kurt. It was amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great! What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After about four months, he ended things. I guess he wasn’t as into dating a twenty-one year old kid as I was into dating a twenty-four year old guy. So he broke up with me and I just went back to doing what I do. Classes, hanging out with Kurt and his boyfriend Adam, Rachel and my other friends. Drinking a lot and sowing my gay oats. Scott and I hooked up a couple more times - but that eventually petered out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Sounds like normal college stuff.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you know about that?” Dave asked, sardonically.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re living in a gorgeous apartment with your equally gorgeous girlfriend - this is not normal college age living!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a normal guy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - I think I’m starting to realize that you are not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave...please, tell me what happened.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just shuddered and closed his eyes, as if he wasn’t quite ready for this. Wasn’t ready for whatever was coming. “Do you remember when my mom left?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az was thrown by this sudden change of topic. “Uh, what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After mom - although I just call her Diane now - after Diane left, do you remember how you did everything you could to make me feel better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I made your dad help me organize that big fireworks show.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You also stayed by my side for days - movies, sleepovers, we learned how to play tennis that summer just so you could distract me with something to do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it again! Make it all go away again Az! Make me forget what...make me...fuck!” Dave started to cry again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az moved a little closer to Dave on the couch, he touched his friend’s knee and tried to give as much silent reassurance as he could. “Dave - I can only do that if you tell me what’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you promise? Promise that you won’t reject me or hurt me or…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear on my relationship with Alicia. And trust me when I say that's a big promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sucked in another shuddering breath, letting it out slowly before quietly saying, “Scott called me on Tuesday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what did he want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s pause was so immense that Az worried that whatever nerve he’d built up had disappeared. His voice, when he finally spoke, physically hurt Az. “He got tested.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az immediately knew that this meant something very significant - he ran through every possible connotation of what it might mean. He scanned his memory for anything that might give him a clue. A half remembered moment during a PFLAG meeting last year...a young man, eighteen years old, who’d had a bad first sexual experience and the need for a...test...before receiving a diagnosis. A young man who needed a test like Dave’s ex… oh god. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>HIV. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no. Az’s entire body ran cold. His heart broke in a million different ways for Dave. He knew that he needed to tread very carefully right now - he needed to just be as open and supportive as he could be. Suddenly that inner voice that he hadn’t heard for so long started to whisper again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(hold his hand hold his hand hold his hand) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az carefully reached over and took Dave’s hand. “It’s okay Dave, tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s voice didn’t even sound like himself - it was so heavy with sadness. “He got tested and he’s positive. He doesn’t know when or for how long, it had been six months or so since his last one - but when we hooked up - it was right in the middle of that. He wanted to tell me...in case I hadn’t...I hadn’t...Oh god!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Dave’s whole body sagged forward, Az reached out and grabbed the water glass before it fell. He pulled his friend against him, placing the glass on the coffee table before wrapping his arms as tightly around Dave as he could - rocking him slowly. Az was at a loss - he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle this. What do you even say - what do you do - what do you think? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two years ago, Dave had been outed by the worst example of humanity possible and that had sent him into a tailspin - eventually leading him to make an attempt on his life. Now, his very existence was being threatened all over again. This time, Dave - out and proud - was facing something possibly even worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No wonder he felt like a failure as a gay man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh god.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He racked his brain. But there was no Fanon quote. No Angelou quote. No Baldwin quote. No Malcolm X or Morrison or Langston Hughes or Martin Luther King Jr or bell hooks...there’s no one who can shed some light on what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> do. No one. No one, except for Azimio Adams who right now had to give his friend some guidance and try so hard to help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s the only one who can show Dave that although life might not be fair, it is still a life worth becoming for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>{“In the World through which I travel, I am endlessly creating myself.”}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, Az needed to recreate himself, yet again. He needed to step up and guide his lonely and hurting friend. He gripped Dave as tightly as he could, while Dave’s tears fell hot and heavy against his shirt. No, he would not abandon Dave again. No he would not let whatever traces of prejudices or bigotry that might still be in his veins to even dare make an appearance - he’s not that guy. He’s the guy that would do anything to support Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would prove that the hate was gone - that he’s gone through the pain, although lord knows what kind of pain is coming now. The boy who rejected Dave was exactly that, a child. He was going to show Dave that he’s grown up, that he’s gone through the pain and the work and come out the other side a man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that man would help, support and save Dave from whatever horrors awaited them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back, rubbing Dave’s back. There were things they needed to do. Az quickly made a mental checklist, knowing that the first item on that list would be the scariest one of them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Dave sat up and looked at Az.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t quite know everything I’m supposed to do here, but I need to know - did you go get tested? Or did you just leave New York?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just left. I was so scared - I just ran. Guess, I’m good at that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az decided to file that away for a future conversation. He needed to compartmentalize - first, check that Dave was okay, then get him to a clinic, then get him tested, next get the results, and then deal with whatever the fallout would be. So he decided to just follow whatever logical plan he could drum up. “I get that. Are you okay? I mean...obviously not, but before we even talk about getting you tested, do you need anything? Food or whatever?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m not really hungry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, Dave was as okay as he was going to get. Onto the next step, get Dave to a clinic. “Dave - do you trust me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no other choice right now - but yeah I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az reached over and grabbed his phone from the coffee table to do a quick search for some place that would do a test today. He wondered about the OSU medical center that he and Alicia both go to, but Dave wasn’t a student - so he probably couldn’t go there. It's on the third search result that he found what he’s looking for - Columbus Public Health. “Okay, then we need to get you to a clinic and we need to get you tested, right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a sharp intake of breath. When he looked back at Dave, the man was shaking all over - his entire body was vibrating and he looked petrified. His eyes locked onto Az’s and he slowly shook his head. “I… I don’t know if I can, Az. What if...what if…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we deal. Dude, we deal. But you need to know. If it's...then we get you on whatever meds you need to get on - we find a way, okay? You’re not alone in this, I swear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just squeezed his eyes closed - “Why did this have to happen?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, man. But...it did. And right now, you need to just take a breath and come with me. We need to get you to a clinic and we need to know what’s going on.” Az knew he needed to rely on his brain right now - his strangely analytical and critical brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For years it had felt like Az’s brain had been dormant. Until he walked into that African American Studies class back in first year, and suddenly his brain clicked on - revealing a whole new side to Azimio Adams. A side of him that loved thinking the deep thoughts that occupied him on a daily basis. A side of him that would one day lead him to shyly ask his best friend to read the first draft of a dissertation about hip-hop. A side of him that found pleasure in being critical about the world around him. A side of him that managed to look at race as a critical juncture of identity politics and not a problem to solve. That saw himself, as a black man, as a state of being - as a positionality...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Afterall, Fanon would point out that as a black man “In no way should my color be regarded as a flaw.”)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>… and right now, it was that part of him which started taking this situation apart. Looking at it piece by piece. And reminding himself of his role in this - he was the friend, he was the support system. He needed to work to make sure that Dave saw him as that - saw him as the rock in a storm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was that side of him that took over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was still shaking, his tears were once again running fresh and hot. But Az needed to push past those tears. He sucked in a deep breath, “Dave, whatever happens - I’m going to be there. Every step of the way, I'm there. And you’re staying here tonight. Dave, I’m going to look after you! We can deal with whatever comes - I promise. But right now, we need to know what we’re dealing with.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll come with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’ll be there the whole time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you won’t leave or walk away if...if it’s…” Dave just squeezed his eyes closed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m there - every single second. Nothing will change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay...okay. I need to know. Right? Like I do need to know!?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you do.” Az leaned in again to hold his friend and, for the first time, he gets a whiff of Dave’s funk - the man has clearly not showered today or in many days. “Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t take offense to this, but you kind of look like shit. And, when did you last have a shower? Or actually get some sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I uh...I was going to stay at a bathhouse, but I got so freaked out cause I’ve never done that before. So, I’ve just been sleeping in my car. It’s been a couple days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck - Dave. A bathouse? You should have called me right away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az...you promised…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t judging - but those places... you’re too good for that shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I was thinking all that clearly…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m still glad you came to me. Now, do you want to shower before we go? Or do you just want to get it over with?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sat there - crying quietly - lost in thought. Az wondered what he was thinking of. Was he thinking of New York - of a man named Scott who may have potentially condemned Dave to a lifetime of medication and blood tests and constantly expecting the worst. Was the thinking of Kurt - someone who loved and cared for him. Or was he thinking of Az - an unlikely pillar of support in the worst of situations? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or was he thinking of his own potential fragility? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Dave whispered so softly that Az was barely able to hear it - “I want to know. If I have it, I want to know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no hesitation after that - there was only movement and action. Az - grabbing his shoes and keys to his truck. Dave - waiting by the front door, watching anxiously while Az wrote an extremely vague text to Alicia. And then down to the underground parking - into the truck, address punched into Google Maps and within twenty minutes they were there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waiting for absolution or condemnation. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. \absolution & condemnation/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Superiority? Inferiority?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why not simply try to touch the other, feel the other, discover each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-Franz Fanon</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Az immediately hated this place. It was like some scene from a nightmare he didn't even know existed. And he hated what this place would come to represent for Dave - regardless of the results. He hated this entire thing - from the cramped parking lot down to the frosted windows of the entrance to the ancient and cracked registration desk. This was not a good place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, the clinic was drab and unpleasant in its terrible attempts at cheerfulness. The walls were painted a bright yellow with decaying plastic plants littered around the room. And second hand furniture that looked like the rejected props from a bad eighties horror movie were littered around the room. But worse of all were the dozens of posters - all reminding the patients of their own mortality. And their own stupidity should they forget it. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Cover Up! Only You Can Prevent Infection! </b>
  <span>Or, Az’s favorite - </span>
  <b>Sex should not be not a death sentence!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Like what the fuck dudes!? Did you steal these from some bad early nineties after school special? No one here needed to be reminded that the person they trusted to be safe and clean had deceived them!  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What’s worse, were the medication posters mixed in amongst the fucking inspirational quotes - </span>
  <b>Don’t forget your daily PREP dose!</b>
  <span> and </span>
  <b>HIV Drugs - helping you live a fulfilled life!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Az wasn’t sure which he hated more - the damn inspirational bullshit or the fucking promise of a brighter life through medication. But these posters - they were an assault on the very idea of comfort to those like Dave. Az wanted to rip them all down and scream at the idiots who thought they would be a good idea to put up in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but think of one of his favorite Fanon quotes, “There are too many idiots in this world. And having said it, I have the burden of proving it.” These posters - the ignorance of the person who put them up - seemed to help relieve that burden through proof. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He watched Dave’s face the whole time - it was so fearful and unsure. He looked like his world was ending - and Az realised that it was. Fuck - he kept remembering what Dave said earlier, how every part of his life of a gay man kept being wrong. For the second time, in so many years, Dave’s life as a gay man was falling apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God please let this turn out okay for his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood with Dave at the check in counter - placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He sat with Dave, his hand sitting heavily on Dave’s knee, while waiting for his name to be called. And, when a nurse dressed in dark blue scrubs appeared calling out Dave’s name, he was surprised  at Dave for asking, “My friend. Can he come?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rather tired looking nurse looked at the two of them - an extremely heavy set black man sporting a full beard and small afro and the other, a husky and ever so slightly chubby white guy who has clearly not shaved in days, looking like he’d been sleeping rough for a while. She just shrugged and motioned for them both to follow her - she’d probably seen worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked at Az - pleadingly. Az just stood, nodded and gave his most reassuring smile - “Let’s do this shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The examination room was almost as depressing as the waiting room - an ancient examining table, a rickety wooden desk that looked like it had been dragged out of a dumpster about forty years ago, a few broken chairs, and an old set of shelves that was nearly overflowing with medical supplies. This clinic looked like it was barely surviving. And, of course, the whole room was covered in posters to remind those visiting just how stupid they were to end up here in the first place. As they sat down, Az noticed how intently Dave was staring at a large poster - </span>
  <b>Not Sure of Their Status? ASK!</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Quietly, Az heard Dave whisper, “Fuck.” Then his whole body sagged forward and he buried his face in his hands. Az just put an arm around Dave’s shoulders, desperately trying to silently reassure his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened and a petite Asian woman walked in, wearing a white lab coat, she smiled at the pair before carefully perching herself on a chair that looked like it was ready to crumble at a moment’s notice. She slowly turned towards Dave and Az. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, My name is Doctor Ang, I understand you’re in need of an HIV test.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, almost glacially, Dave lifted his head - the utter anguish on his face shocked both Az and the doctor. Dave literally looked like he was about to die. Dr. Ang leaned forward, her hand gripping Dave’s knee. “Mr. Karofsky! Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s mouth moved - as though he was desperately trying to figure out what he should be saying right now. He swallowed thickly and then whispered, “He swore he was clean - he even had a test, but not a recent one. And I trusted him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Ang nodded, as though she’d heard all this a million times - and to be honest, she probably had. Az watched, silently praying to whatever god in the universe might listen. Then she started asking Dave questions that would have fundamentally humiliated Az if they’d been directed towards him, but Dave just quietly answered them all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Karofsky, may I ask you some questions?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess I can’t really say no, can I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand this will be uncomfortable for you, but you need to be honest, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure go ahead.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When were you last tested?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six Months ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever engaged in unprotected sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have unprotected sex with the man you fear infected you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That one really shocked Az. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anal and oral?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh - both, I blew him a lot. And I think once we had sex without a condom when we were drunk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he ejaculate?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember - like I said, we were drunk. God, how could I have been so stupid?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you taking any preventative medications, like PrEP?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’ve been on it for six months.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az finally let himself tune out for a while - it felt wrong to listen in on an oral history of Dave’s sex life over the past six months. He’s not sure he could have handled having Dave hear any details of his sex life. He wanted to feel humiliated and uncomfortable, but he won’t let himself. RIght now, Dave needed him more than anything else. Right now, Az had to work past all that bullshit and just be Dave’s friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az - because he is who he is - started to think. He thought about change and how hard he’s worked to change for himself. For Dave. And he thought about what his bigoted eighteen year old self would have done - he probably would have spat in Dave’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That person - that child - disgusted him now. His whole world had been ignorance and hate and he’d changed. He changed his whole world. And, as with almost everything in his life, Fanon came to mind - “What matters is not to know the world but to change it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew his world. And he changed it. And today - he’d proven it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az…” There was a soft tug on his jacket. He looked up to see the doctor getting some kind of kit out - she opened the box and removed what actually looked like a pregnancy test. Az just grabbed Dave’s hand and held on as tightly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m right here, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Ang turned around, she nodded at Az. “Mr. Karofsky, is this your partner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave froze. Az understood why - if there had ever been a moment when eighteen year old Az would have screamed bloody murder, the insinuation of being gay would have been it. Dave probably was steeling himself for exactly that kind of violent reaction. Instead, Az just shook his head. “No, ma'am. I’m just his best friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded and continued to prepare the test. “Okay, so I’m doing what’s called a rapid antigen/antibody test today. It will check for HIV antibodies and takes about thirty minutes for us to get the results. Once I take a blood sample, I’ll just ask you to wait out in the waiting room and I’ll come get you when I know something. Does that sound okay to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked her right in the eye and, in a tone that Az remembered so well from high school, said. “No. It really doesn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Karofsky...Dave. I know this is scary. I know that you trusted this man you were with and I know that you feel like your life might end if it comes back as positive. But nothing could be further from the truth. If - and right now that’s a big if - it comes back positive, I will get you on medication that will reduce the viral load very quickly. And we can work with your doctor in New York to help you get on the right mix to ensure that you become undetectable. Dave, I promise you - regardless of the results today, you will live a long long life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s head just sagged and he held out his hand for the finger prick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az watched as Dr. Ang snapped on a second pair of latex gloves and carefully took a blood sample. Then she pressed a piece of gauze to Dave’s middle finger.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, Dave stood, not once letting go of Az’s hand. And together they walked back to the depressing waiting room - to wait. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. ?Positive? | ?Negative?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Today I believe in the possibility of love; that is why I endeavor to trace its imperfections, its perversions.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- Franz Fanon</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Take my mind off the test, please?” Dave’s voice kept changing, it seemed like every time he spoke a new depth of sadness had been reached. But now, he looked at Az like a man drowning man in desperate need of a life preserver. “Please Az - just talk to me about something - anything at all.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay - what do you want to talk about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about Alicia.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s pretty easy - I could talk about her for hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you meet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az smiled as he remembered that day on the lawn outside the library and seeing her for the first time - how smart and worldly she seemed. And then, later, in Morris’ class, the breezy way she just sailed across the room to sit next to him. “We technically met at a black students group thing, but we talked for the first time in our African American Studies class. I had no idea what to do - like this perfect woman was talking to me. I totally freaked out - she kept asking me all these questions, and I just mumbled a lot. Then she asked me out for coffee the next week and we just started talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said...back in April that she helped get you to PFLAG.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We - uh - got together because I told her what I did to you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I kind of helped you get a girlfriend, huh? Just like we always planned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish it had been different, but yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Are you good to her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I..” Az realized that he was about to say that he would die for her, but that felt utterly inappropriate. “I would do anything for her, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Fuck… I wish we could just have a normal conversation and find out about each other’s lives.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Az. We can’t. I’m sitting in a fucking doctor’s office waiting to find out if I have fucking HIV - I can’t just sit here and shoot the shit with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so scared, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am too. But I promise, no matter what, it will be okay. You heard what she said, if it is positive, we’ll get you on meds and… well, I don’t know what undetectable is, but it sounded good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sat silently for a moment, his face drawn and thoughtful. “Az - do you know why I called you today?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No… I figured maybe it was just because you needed a friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. But since Scott called me, I’ve felt like this was that week in February all over again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck! Az’s whole body buzzed. He slowly turned towards Dave. “Tell me what I can do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did it. You’re here. You’re supporting me… that’s helping me. I don’t feel so alone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not. You have me and you have Alicia and Kurt and everyone else who loves you. Okay, Dave...but please remember that you have so many people who love you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just nodded and fell silent. Az gripped his hand as tightly as he could, anything to help remind his friend that he was not alone. He scrambled to try and think of something to say, something that would help. Fuck, he wished Alicia was here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quite suddenly, out of nowhere, Dave whispered, “I’m in love with Kurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Utterly taken off guard by the sudden subject shift, Az groped for a way to respond. All he came up with was to lamely ask, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said, I’m in love with Kurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh - okay. Does he know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Sometimes I feel like my dating life is trapped in some kind of awful version of groundhog day”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was in love with him once before too… just before, everything happened…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like two years ago?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It was why it all happened - I did this stupid gorilla gram thing…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait?! That was you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had the whole school buzzing, man…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well it didn’t go that well. I told him I loved him in the middle of Breadstix, he shot me down, and then some asshole from Thurston saw me and outed me - hence the whole Dave suicide thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, Az thought, he’s being flippant about his suicide attempt - was that good or bad? For a second, the thought passed through his mind that this might be a chance for them to talk about everything that happened. But then he remembered where they were and why they were there, so no, this would be the worst possible time to do that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave, however, seemed content continuing his love lorn lament. “Anyways, I was in love with him - but I stopped for awhile after my attempt - and then, somehow, we got together just before we both left for New York. And, fuck Az, we were awesome together - we were Dave and Kurt, this super couple. But once we got to college, I think we both realized that the world was so much bigger than either of us. So we broke up... we stopped being Dave and Kurt and went back to being friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And were you okay with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just shrugged. “It was a pretty mutual decision. We were young - eighteen years old - and in the greatest city in the world. Like what the fuck were we expecting! He went off and found someone else and I found someone else. It was fine. We were both happy and we liked being friends - the tension between us was gone and we just fell back into old routines from before we dated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what changed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adam.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The new boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I mean, he met Adam long after we dated, before I even met Scott - I was dating Lee at the time - and I had...have... no problem with the guy. He’s actually kinda nice and he’s good to Kurt. But in the last few months, I’ve started… wanting Kurt again. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could tell him… maybe he feels the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s bark of laughter was sudden and harsh in the waiting room. “That didn’t work out well last time. And after today… if that test is positive… it’ll be over. Kurt won’t want to be saddled with a guy who has an expiration date.” Dave paused again, shook his head and whispered, “No one will.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az squeezed Dave’s hand a little tighter “Dave! That’s not true and you know…” Before he could continue, he saw Dr. Ang walking towards them with an unreadable expression on her face. Dave looked up, meeting her eyes. He pushed himself up, keeping his tight grip on Az’s hand, and moved to follow her.  A shuddering sigh rattled Dave’s body.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az walked a few paces behind Dave, who was moving towards the examination room like a man heading to his execution. In some ways, Az supposed, that was exactly the way it seemed. And the unfairness of it just felt so heavy and present. All he wanted was to grab Dave and run. Run as far and as fast as they could - get away from whatever was waiting for them behind that door. He wanted some kind of magic fix that would make this go away for Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept trying to think about what would come next - what next steps would he need to figure out? If...oh god, please don’t let it be true...if it was positive, what would he do? How was he going to protect Dave from himself? Dave had just told him that he felt exactly like he did two years ago - fragile and under attack. And the last time Dave’s existence had been under attack, the only recourse he found was to try and end  his own life. So, what exactly would a positive result do to him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az shuddered at the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just now realized that perhaps he should have mentioned Dave’s past issues with mental health to Dr. Ang. Because she’s about to walk into this situation utterly blind. Fuck. </span>
</p><p>-/-</p><p>
  <span>The room was the same - drab and depressing. Az sat in the same seat as before, he kept Dave’s hand firmly in his grip. Trying so hard to physically reassure his friend that he was not alone - that no matter what happened, he was not alone. Dave sat hunched forward in his chair. It was so quiet in the room, but Az was sure he could hear the thumping of Dave’s heart. Dave was shaking so hard that his chair was rattling and Az’s entire body shook with the vibrations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both men jumped when the door opened and Dr. Ang walked in, carrying a file folder. She was not smiling. Dave watched her face - he sat up straight, as though hoping to present a confident and brave front to ward off an oncoming army.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, she moved a chair so it was directly in front of them, then she sat down and opened the file. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The file was too thick. It had too many pieces of paper in. He saw a stark white sheet of paper with boxes and numbers and words on it  - clearly the test results. But it was the pamphlets that worried him the most. Those broke Az’s heart.  She wouldn’t bring Dave any damn pamphlets if it was negative. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced at Dave, who clearly had also come to the same conclusion. Fresh tears were running down his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Ang softly cleared her throat. “Dave - I am so sorry. The test results came back positive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years later, Azimio Adams would recollect this moment while standing in front of a room of freshman students talking about the use of anguish in African American visual culture. His mind would suddenly cast him back to this moment - sitting in a dingy and unpleasant examination room - witnessing the most raw and unrelenting expression of anguish he would ever see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment there was nothing - there was just silence. Dave sat there, staring straight ahead of him - his eyes were unfocused and glassy - and he seemed to have almost no expression on his face. It was as though Dave had completely vacated his body. Neither Az or Dr. Ang moved - they sat there, watching him. Waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, as if a switch had been thrown, Dave’s entire body pitched forward and he let out a wail that sent rivers of ice through Az’s veins. Dr. Ang leapt forward and grabbed Dave’s shoulders before he crashed off the chair, while Az grabbed Dave around the chest and hugged him tightly. Together they managed to keep him from toppling onto the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! NO! NO!” Dave’s voice rose in volume and intensity. He was shaking his head violently while ramming his fists against his forehead. “NOT HAPPENING!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slammed open and the same tired looking nurse from earlier ran in, alarm written across her face, “Is everything alright?” She paused, taking one look at Dave, who was completely breaking down. Then she just nodded, giving Az and Dr. Ang a sympathetic look and turned to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave! I need you to calm down!” Dr. Ang said, her voice wasn’t really loud enough to break through the wails of anguish. She was shaking him, but he was so hunched over that his head was between his knees, that he probably didn’t notice her efforts. And he was starting to scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was screaming and pleading with some unknown entity, “NO! NO! NOT ME! FUCK! NO!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Az watched as the small Dr. Ang tried to talk to Dave - tried to get him to calm down. He watched her try to push Dave back into a sitting position. But Dave was fighting her - he was shaking and twisting away from her hands, and he just kept on screaming - no longer forming words, just incoherent sobs of horror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az had to do something. If he didn’t, Dave would lose all control and could hurt himself or one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved without even realizing that he was actually moving. He slid onto the floor, pushing Dr. Ang aside, and grabbing hold of Dave’s shoulders. He could do this. He had to calm Dave down somehow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DAVE!” He made his voice as loud as humanly possible. In high school and before, anytime Dave would get lost in his own head or his own anger, Az would use some kind of battering ram to break through the noise in Dave’s head. And usually just screaming at him worked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DAVE! CALM THE FUCK DOWN! NOW!” Az gave Dave a shard shake and then yanked him into as tight of a hug as he possibly could - pressing Dave to him. Instantly, Dave’s entire body gave a huge shudder, but he grew quiet. He sat there, his head pressed against Az’s chest, heaving with sobs. Although they weren’t quite as loud, his sobs filled the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave…” Az quietly said, “I’m so sorry, so sorry.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Dave repositioned himself, pressing his face into Az’s neck. He whispered softly, voice shaking with sobs, “Az...I...I’m scared. This can’t be happening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az was panicking. How much more could Dave fucking take?! He was twenty-one years old, and this was the second time that his life was being threatened. Fuck! Dave felt so fragile, his whole body was trembling. Az had no idea what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced behind him and saw Doctor Ang watching them, her face was friendly and sympathetic. He knew that he needed her - he needed her to help him. But he needed Dave to let that happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pressed his face into Dave’s hair, speaking softly. “I know. Fuck...I know. But we need to listen to Dr. Ang right now, okay? We need to just find out what happens next, okay? Can you do that for me? Can you listen to what she has to say? And then we can get you what you need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded, his loud sobs slowly pettering off to whimpers, although Az knew this would not  be the last of these breakdowns tonight. Dave let himself be pushed back up into a sitting position, and let Az slowly move back to his own chair. But Dave refused to let go of Az - their hands stayed locked together. They both looked at Dr. Ang </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to…” Dave said weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave.” Her voice was so soft and reassuring, it actually made Az feel better. ”It’s okay - you just got some very shocking and awful news. I’m so sorry that I had to do that to you. Now, before we keep going, would you like me to get our resident social worker to sit in with us? She has a lot of experience working with recently diagnosed people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but I’d like you to talk with her before you leave today. First, though, I'd like to talk a little bit about what comes next. Can you handle that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded, but he looked utterly unsure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I’ve already called the pharmacy next door and had them fill your prescriptions and I’ve sent the test results and what I’ve prescribed to your doctor in New York - I suspect he’ll want to see you as soon as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stayed silent - his eyes were starting to look glassy again. Az nodded and answered, “Okay, I’ll make sure he gets in touch with his doctor.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Okay, so as for your treatment. We’re going to start you on the standard treatment for HIV, which means I’m putting you on something called antiretroviral therapy. Have you heard that before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mutely, Dave shook his head. At least it was a sign that he was listening. Az felt Dave’s grip on his hand start to tighten - he took it as a sign that Dave needed him to take control here. So, Az stepped up, “What does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Ang smiled. “That’s the good news - what this treatment does is reduce the virus in your system.” She held out a pamphlet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az took the pamphlet, looking at it with worry in his eyes - </span>
  <b>HIV Treatment: Facts &amp; Fiction. </b>
  <span>He realized he really didn’t want to read this. Not even a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s voice was nearly a strangled sob, “Does that mean I won’t have HIV?”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>I’m going to try and not overwhelm you with information, but to answer your question - yes and no. And I know that’s confusing. And while HIV treatment has come a very long way, we don’t have a cure...yet! But what we do have is the ability to prevent the progression of the disease - to reduce what’s called your viral load. This treatment essentially stops the disease from working - and with this medication, in a few months, you’ll be undetectable.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s face fell - and fresh tears started to fall. “Wh...wh...what does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, essentially it means that while you’ll still be HIV positive, the actual disease can no longer be detected by a blood test. Your test results will show a negative result and you’ll still need to be tested on a very regular basis to ensure your viral count stays low. But as long as you keep taking your medication, you’ll be almost completely without the disease. Here…” She handed over another pamphlet: </span>
  <b>U = U… Undetectable EQUALS Untransmittable</b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Az opened the pamphlet, he glanced up at Dr. Ang. “I don’t get this - does this mean he won’t give people the disease?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Ang shook her head, “People living with HIV who have an undetectable viral load cannot pass HIV on through sex...not that I ever advocate for unprotected sex. But I don’t want to put the horse before the cart - we have some work ahead of us before we get there, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave reached out and took the pamphlet from Az - staring at it, his eyes glazed and unfocused. He slowly opened it and started reading. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and started chewing gently. Finally, he looked up at Dr. Ang. “I...I… am… I don’t know what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...there’s a few things we’re going to start with. I’d like to start by doing a physical exam, then a few more tests, and then we can talk a bit more about treatment and answer your questions. I know how hard this is, Dave. It can be incredibly hard to process and I’m really glad you have a friend here with you - a lot of the patients I see don’t have that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just tightened his grip on Dave’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Ang turned to look at Az. “I’m sorry - I actually didn’t get your name.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I’m Azimio. Most people call me Az.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Az - I’m going to do Dave’s exam now… Dave, would you like Az to stay with you or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...I guess, maybe he can leave for that. But can he come back when we talk more? Or when the social worker comes in?” Dave sounded so shaky and unsure of what was actually happening - his voice was barely recognizable. He turned to Az, “Is...is that okay, Az?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you need buddy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Ang nodded. “Excellent, Az - why don’t you step out into the waiting room and I’ll come get you in about fifteen minutes or so?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.” Az stood up - his hand still gripping Dave. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to walk away and leave Dave here alone. It felt too much like he was walking away from Dave, but the way Dr. Ang was looking at him was a clear message to leave.  He was about to go, but knew that he couldn’t yet. He crouched down in front of Dave - “Listen to me, Dave, okay. We got this! I know this is scary - fuck I’m scared too. But we got this. You and me - we can face anything. You’ll be okay, I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just looked at him and nodded. The “thank you” went unspoken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Az forced himself to walk out of that room, to walk away from Dave. He walked down the small hallway, stopping just inside the waiting room, bracing himself against the wall. He looked at the few people sitting there - all of them looking so alone and frightened. He couldn’t sit there. He just couldn’t - he needed…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed Alicia. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked up the tired looking nurse, “Excuse me. The doctor is examining my friend, but she’s going to come get me in a few minutes - I’m just stepping outside to make a call, can you please come get me? My friend...he needs me.” He knows he must look like a wreck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded and squeezed his arm.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving quickly, he pushed through the front doors and sucked in a mouthful of air. He stood outside - a warm breeze tickled his nose, it brought with it the smell of lavender from somewhere. It reminded him of his mom’s house. He pulled his phone out and dialed Alicia’s number. As the phone rang, another Fanon quote flashed in his mind - “An endless task, the cataloguing of reality. We accumulate facts, we discuss them, but with every line that is written, with every statement that is made, one has the feeling of incompleteness.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt tired of Fanon at the moment. Tired of thought. Tired of being. Just tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today there were too many facts. To many realities. Too many ideas and thoughts and hurts and pains and...fuck. Fuck it all.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az!” Her voice knocked all thoughts of Fanon and facts and realities out of his mind. She was there - just on the other end of a phone call. “Are you okay? Your text...what’s happening?” She sounded scared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t bother trying to pretend or hold it back, he just sobbed into the phone. “Alicia!! Oh god!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She immediately sounded panicked. “Azzy? What’s wrong...you’re scaring me! Where are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I...am...oh god...he’s...Alicia...he’s so scared!  And I don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to help!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az! Where are you? Tell me right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sagged against the building, eyes closed. “I’m...I’m at the Columbus Public Health Clinic. Down on Parsons.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why are you there? Az...tell me, what’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alicia he’s….” Then Az stopped. No. Even though this was Alicia, this was not his news to share. He would not break Dave’s trust like this. No. He would not. He shook his head. “I can’t - I can’t tell you Alicia. I’m sorry. Dave...he needs me right now. And I can’t just… This isn’t for me to tell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence for a moment - and he knows his girlfriend, so he knew that she probably figured it out. He’s given her everything she needed to figure it out. But if she has, she doesn’t let on. Instead, she just asked, “Az, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m scared and upset.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to come get you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, how badly he wanted that. But he can’t - he needed to just look after Dave. Alicia would look after them both later - she’s strong enough to do that. And it would just make him love her more. “No. I think we’ll be here for a little longer and then go back to the apartment.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to call me the moment you get back there. Understand me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Are you still at the library?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m with my sister - I got scared when I got your text and came here. I’m...I think I need to stay here until you and Dave are home. Whatever is going on - I think I’ll be in the way. Then I’ll come home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Azzy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az saw movement out of the corner of his eye - Dr. Ang was watching him from the doorway. She nodded back towards the clinic. “I love you too, Licia. I have to go now - but I’ll call you as soon as we get home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Azzy. Be careful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mumbled a goodbye and hung up. He walked towards Dr. Ang, her face set with worry. “Azimio, before we go back in - there’s something I want to ask you. Dave is with Sarah, our social worker, so we have a moment.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave told me about what happened to him in high school - his depression is very concerning given his test results.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’m worried too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azimio, he told me that he sees a therapist in New York, so we need him to make an appointment with her as soon as possible. But, it’s the getting him there that I’m worried about. He cannot be alone tonight - under no circumstances, can you leave him alone. Can you do that for me? Can you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not leaving my sight. I swear it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. You’re a very good friend, Azimio.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, he wanted to scream at her - he wanted to yell and confess all his sins and all the terrors and horrors that he’s been responsible for. He wanted to fall on his knees and beg for absolution from his sins. But she had no need for him to confess to what he once once, all she cared about is what he was now. All she cared about was for him to show that he’s the kind of man who would step up and care for Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring all that, he just said, “I’m his best friend - I’ll do anything to keep him safe.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. \Aftermath/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Should.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- Franz Fanon</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Az opened his front door, holding it open so Dave could pass through first. Dave’s slow shuffling walk easily belied how exhausted he was. His entire body seemed to sag - he just looked defeated - like a man without purpose. Az watched as Dave kicked off his shoes and shuffled towards the couch, sinking down onto it and burrowing his face into his hands. The quiet apartment echoed with the volume of his sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az closed and locked the door behind him, then placed the shopping bags he’d been carrying onto the counter - next to the bags of chips Dave had brought earlier. The last few hours were a blur - first the long talk with the social worker, which Dave spent most of in tears. Then the pharmacy, where Dave had to listen to a pharmacist reiterated what felt like a million instructions about his medications. Thankfully, it had been a Walgreens, so Az was able to grab some food and other things to make sure that Dave would have something to eat when they got back to the apartment. Dave had followed Az around the store like a silent puppy - barely offering the slightest response to questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az bought whatever - he really didn’t care. He just wanted to get Dave back to the apartment, back to safety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, he quickly texted Alicia that they were home before opening the paperbag from the pharmacy and pulling out three pill bottles. They were a frighteningly vibrant yellow, as if issuing a warning of caution over their contents. He carefully opened them one by one, taking a pill from each. Then he grabbed a glass of water, before carrying it and the pills to the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinking down next to Dave he held out the water and pills - “You need to take these now. And then you need to start taking them every morning. Remember, you have to pick a time to take them every day, and always at the same time.” Az’s brain buzzed with all the new information he had to process over the last few hours - information Dr. Ang entrusted him with to help get Dave on track with his treatment. It was information he wished he had no need of, but now was not the time to think about that - maybe later. Right now, he needed to focus on helping Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave lifted his head and stared at Az. He reached out and took the pills and water. He looked at them for a long time. For second, Az worried that he was going to throw them against a wall - then he tossed the pills into his mouth and drank down half the glass of water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, Dave took his first dose. Next, he should probably get him to eat something, and then try to make Dave get some sleep. Yes...keep compartmentalizing. Keep building lists with simple tasks that would be easy to accomplish. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az gave Dave a reassuring smile and started to get off the couch, but then his arm was being gripped tightly, and he was being tugged back onto the couch. He turned to look at Dave. “You okay, man?” Fuck - the sheer stupidity of the question shook Az to his core. What a fundamentally idioctic question. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Dave just shook his head and kept his hand tightly gripping Az’s arm. Finally, he whispered, “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you - I got you. No matter what.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Az… this was more than just that… you… I couldn’t have done this today without you. So, thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, Dave. From now on, I’ll always be here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded and Az could see fresh tears in his eyes. “Can we just sit here for a second?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, man.” Az sat back on the couch. “Although, you do need to eat something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not very hungry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. I bought pancake mix - I can make those super fast. But you have to eat something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember when we were kids and we decided to try making fried chicken and we almost set the house on fire?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mom still doesn’t trust me in a kitchen - although that was your idea.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded and stared off into space. He swallowed thickly, “Fuck. God, Az. What am I going to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az thought for a moment, then he pivoted to face Dave, grabbing his shoulders, “This is what you’re going to do. You are going to take your medication every single day. You are going to see your therapist every week and talk about all this. You are going to go back to New York and live your life. You’re going to call me every day - or whenever - and we’re going to talk. You are going to become undetectable and then you’re going to medical school and live your life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{It would be years before Az understood the importance of those words} </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a silence again - it struck Az how many silences today had been filled with. It felt like from the moment Dave had walked into the apartment, a series of increasingly intense silences had been gathering. He knew Dave had always been a quiet guy - careful of his words, because they could so easily expose the simmering emotions underneath. His next question seems to rip out of him, “How am I going to tell my dad? Or Kurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az wants to just be blunt, but this wasn’t that easy. He had no easy answer for this. He had no experience for this, no reference point for this. All he had was his own tiny journey. But could that be enough of an analogy to help?  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the very start, ever since freshman year, he’d found it so essential to talk. And for a guy who thought talking about his feelings was the girliest thing in the world, that was a remarkable realization. Alicia, PFLAG, his growing love of academia -  they all had helped him find the language to talk about his journey. And once he knew what he was going to say, once he knew what language to use, it made things a little easier. He had no idea what Dave was going through - or even how it could possibly be similar - but maybe it could ease him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know Dave, but look - and don’t make fun of me, okay…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az, I’m pretty sure my sense of humour died in that doctor’s office today, so don’t worry about me laughing at anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We both know that’s not true - you just need time, Dave. Time to adjust - like Dr. Ang said.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah..okay.” Dave did not in any way sound convinced. “So, you were saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right - sorry. Well, you know my philosopher friend?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said this thing in one of his books, ‘there is an extraordinary power in the possession of a language.’ Maybe, now that you know something about being positive - and what the treatment will do. You can better explain to Kurt and your dad that this isn’t...you know… a death sentence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shuddered hard at Az’s last words. He frowned deeply and stared at the floor. “I don’t want to die, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re not going to. You heard what the doc said - you take your meds, you live a healthy life and you’re gonna be around for a very long time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still scared.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d be more worried if you weren’t. Dave - you will be okay. This doesn’t change who you are, okay? Remember, it took me a long time to figure out that gay, straigtht, postivive, negative - it doesn’t change you as my friend. You’re still Dave - funny, smart, a killer athlete, a great friend, an awesome son, annoyingly good at video games. You’re still going to be successful! You're going to end up in med school, or whatever. You’re gonna keep living your life - hang out in New York and do weird New York things…the only difference is that you have to take three pills once a day. I know you’re scared - fuck, I am too. But...it doesn’t change who you are!” Az suddenly felt out of breath, like he’d been speaking without stopping for a really long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az - when did you get smart?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not smart, Dave. I just found that I like thinking about things - I’m still an idiot.” Az sniffled, but he fought the urge to cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been really smart all day - you’ve been amazing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. And look, we’ll tell Kurt and your dad together, okay? If you want me to be there, then I’m there every step of the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you there. I need you to be there.” Dave sighed and stared at his hands. He wiggled his fingers. “Ever since she said the word positive, it’s like I can feel it in my blood… like this intense heat that’s going to burn me from the inside out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe that’s normal? Maybe that’s your mind telling you to fight?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how much more fight I have in me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you lay some of it on me. I’ll be here, holding you up! I’ll help you fight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just sagged into Az. “I’m glad I came to you today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am too! I’m so glad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to call Kurt. I need to tell him. He was so upset and scared today when I called. How do I even say it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe...like the doc said, start by telling people that you’re okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t feel very okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well - how about that you’re safe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just nodded and squeezed Az’s hand a little more. Then he gestured at the bedroom. “Can...can I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Go use the bedroom. Do you want me to come with you and we can talk to him together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sat for a second, lost in his own thought, then he shook his head. “No… I need to try it on my own. It’s Kurt...he’s...he’ll listen. But, I’ll leave the door open. And just having you near is enough.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right here. I’ll make us some pancakes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Dave pulled Az into a hug, breathtakingly tight. Then he pushed himself off the couch and shuffled into the bedroom. Az watched him go - but before Dave could go and have the first of what was sure to be many awful conversations, Az needed to know something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He turned back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I tell Alicia? She’s gonna come home soon and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell her the truth. I just hope she doesn’t…” He left the words unfinished - his fear was obvious. Thankfully, if there was one thing Az could be certain of, it was Alicia and her capacity for love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She won’t. Trust me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded and disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sat back on the couch and closed his eyes. He needed to move onto the next thing - pancakes - but his whole body felt bone tired. This was so very different than the day he’d anticipated having. All he’d originally planned was to read about masculinity and maybe watch a couple Spike Lee joints. Instead, his life had been ripped apart as he struggled to be everything that Dave needed him to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to breathe and just relax, but he was too focused on the bedroom. He could hear the soft murmur of Dave’s voice. He thought about moving to the doorway to listen - just to make sure Dave was okay - but that felt too intimate, despite everything that had happened today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With one ear attuned to the bedroom, he got up and moved into the kitchen. He pulled bowls out and went through the familiar motions of making pancakes, while starting to collect his thoughts. God, he hated all of this - he hated what was happening. He wanted to run away. He just wanted to grab Alicia and Dave and run. He wanted to run away from all the new words he’d had to learn today - viral counts, undetectable, retrovirus, </span>
  <span>NRTIs, CD4 count, treatment plans… all of it was too new. Too real and too scary. All of it was not something that any of them should have to deal with. Not as twenty-somethings. His fucking heart just kept breaking.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az tried to just focus on the process of making pancakes - push his brain to relax. In an attempt to disconnect for a second, he started repeating some of his favorite quotes. It was something that he’d been doing since the end of first year, when he felt overwhelmed with papers and ideas and PFLAG and all of it. When he needed to just calm down - he’d just sit and repeat random phrases to himself. Today, he started thinking about James Baldwin - somewhat appropriate for the day’s events.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(“Trust life, and it will teach you, in joy and sorrow, all you need to know.”)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, centering himself. He had just pulled out the milk and freshly bought eggs, when an anguished scream from the bedroom sent him running. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He burst into the room to find Dave doubled over on the bed, rocking himself back and forth - his phone lying on the floor in front of him. Dave was sobbing, His face buried in his hands. Az sat down next to him, wrapping his arms around the sobbing man. “It’s okay Dave… try to calm down, okay. It’s okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not! It’s not!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit - he should never have left him alone. Whispering soft reassurances and keeping one arm wrapped around Dave, he picked up Dave’s discarded phone. For a second before saying anything, he considered why Dave had broken down like this - if Kurt had… Az would tear that boy’s world apart. “Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, because of the utter silence, Az thought that Dave had ended the call. But then, a voice filled with worry and surprise answered back. “Azimio?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Kurt.” He wondered what his voice sounded like right now - tired, angry, sad or something else entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on… Why is Dave there with you? Why is he in Columbus? He said something about a test, then he started sobbing. Azimio, he’s scaring me! I know he talked about getting back in touch with you - but, I thought he was going to do it later this month when he visited his dad. Please, tell me what’s happening to my friend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, so Dave hadn’t said anything - he’d just become overwhelmed. But now… Now Az needs to man up. And well, shit. He couldn’t do it - he couldn’t tell Kurt this. He’s not strong enough for that. But then he glanced at Dave, who looked so lost and lonely, and he knew he absolutely would, if that’s what Dave needed from him, then he'd fucking do it. “Hold on a second okay?” He turned to Dave, “Do you want me to tell him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried...I tried so hard, but...I couldn’t...Az...I couldn’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay...I’m going to tell him what’s going on, alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! You don’t need to do this! This...this is something I need to do. This is my fault, I have to do it! I’m just so scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az tried to think about what the social worker and Dr. Ang had said - that this moment is like a coming out experience all over again. And that often fear plays a huge part in that, so sometimes you just need to find ways to work around that fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave, none of this is your fault - it just happened. Why don’t we tell him together? I can sit here and we can do it together? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...yes, please stay with me!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az watched as Dave took the phone back - he could see how badly Dave was shaking, barely holding it together. He leaned into his friend, whispering - “It’s okay, Dave. I’m right here. No matter what, I’m here. Remember, tell him you’re safe - and just talk to him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Azimio would - throughout his long life - experience a lot of awful moments. He would shed tears many many times, but no matter what else happened in his life, he would never feel as empty as he did that day, sitting on his bed while his friend spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Kurt...fuck, I don’t even know how to tell you this...” Az felt himself start to break down - his own tears vivid on his face. The agony in Dave’s voice...was immense.   “I...I…just want you to know that I’m safe. That Az is here with me...that...that he’s looking after me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az squeezed Dave - anchoring him to this bed, to this moment. He forced himself to tune out the conversation for a moment - already in such a short time, he’s heard so many personal details of Dave’s life. He doesn’t want to intrude on yet another intimate moment. He forced Dave’s voice to become the wah-wah of the teachers from those old Charlie Brown cartoons he and Dave used to watch as kids. But as much as he tried - as hard as he tried…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tested positive, Kurt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Az was filled with his own sense of utter anguish and his tears were so hot. Because until he heard Dave tell Kurt, it hadn’t really been real. He hadn’t really been ready to believe it. But now, now he had to. Now there was no escape from it. He pressed his face into his hand and cried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments later, a phone was being pressed against his chest, he looked up surprised. Dave was sobbing so hard that the bed was practically shaking with the ferocity of his cries. He was barely even able to speak - he just pointed at the phone. Then Dave lay down on the bed, curling into a fetal position - sobbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az cleared his throat and brought the phone back to his ear. “H-hi Kurt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard sniffling and then the sound of Kurt blowing his nose. “Hi Azimio.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay? Stupid question, I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This can’t be happening. God. This can’t be happening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish it wasn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming to Columbus - I’m going to see if I can get on a flight tonight or sometime tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. I think he’ll like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you look after him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I promise.” Az knew he owned this person an apology just as much as he’d owed Dave one. “Kurt… I just wanted to say, I’m sorry for what I was like back in high school. I’m sorry I acted the way I did when Dave was outed. I’m sorry for a million things - but I’m trying to be a better person. I hope you know you can trust me with him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kurt sighed, “I know - he said you’d proved yourself a few times. And...I’m glad it was you he went to. You’re his best friend - even I can’t replace that. But, please Az, protect him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will. I swear. The only thing he has to worry about is my awful cooking.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az glanced over at Dave who was still curled up, his sobs were quieter now, but no less intense. “Kurt - I’m sorry, but I should probably go. He needs me. Can, uh, can I call you later or something? I’m sorry...to just drop this on you and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Don’t you worry about me, go help Dave. Just take care of him for me Az. Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Az quickly said goodby and tossed the phone away - not really caring where it landed. Then he slipped off the bed, moving to kneel next Dave, who was curled tightly into himself. He was still shaking with sobs, but they’re muffled because of how he was holding himself. Az pulled Dave gently, trying to let him unravel a little - enough at least for Az to hug him. What he didn’t expect was for Dave to unfurl and fall off the bed into Az’s arm. As he does, Az realized that Dave wasn’t just sobbing - he was wailing. Words rolling out of him, nearly indistinguishable from his sobs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want this! I don’t want this! Why me!?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az locked him in as tight a hug as he could. His arms shaking as he descended into his own volley of sobs. They sat like that, kneeling in Azimio and Alicia’s bedroom, clutching desperately at each other, sobbing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minutes later - or maybe it was hours later - Az felt a soft and cool hand start to stroke his head. He lifted his face from Dave’s shoulder and looked right into Alicia’s sad eyes. He saw that she was also stroking Dave’s neck - silently offering this man that she had never met all the love in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking into her eyes, Az knew that it would be okay. It had to be - because she was here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Licia...you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi baby. Come on. Let’s get you two off the floor.” She pressed her lips to his overheated forehead and she carefully unwrapped his arms from around Dave, tugging him to get up. Then she knelt in front of Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Dave. I’m Alicia. I’m going to help you get up okay, you might be more comfortable in the living room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave silently let himself be pulled up off the floor and guided into the living room, where Alicia and Az carefully put him down onto the couch. He collapsed against the cushions, still shaking. Alicia went to sit next to him, but Az grabbed her arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Licia - he just…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I know, Azzy. We need to get him calmed down and then you both need to eat something. Let’s focus on that for now, after that we can talk.” She sat down and ran her thumb across Dave’s cheeks - clearing his tears. Dave opened his eyes and stared at her - he looked so desolate and unbearably alone. He let out a shuddering breath and took her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az watched her care for his friend and he felt a little of the tension that he’d been holding onto so tightly all day leave his body. He wasn’t alone in this. He sank down next to Dave, taking his friend’s other hand. And he knew that together - he and Alicia - would pull Dave through this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled as he heard Alicia quietly say, “I’m ordering us dinner - we’re not poisoning Dave with your pancakes tonight, Azzy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile grew even larger when he heard Dave actually chuckle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dave slept. He was curled up in the corner of their sofa covered with a large knitted quilt that neither Az or Alicia could remember owning. He’d been asleep for the last hour but his hair still looked damp from the shower, He was wearing one of Az’s OSU shirts, plus a pair of shorts that Az had planned to throw out weeks earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia and Az sat at the kitchen counter, which was covered with Thai food take-out containers. She was rubbing his back slowly, and their heads were pressed close together. Their voices a soft whisper, so as not to wake Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so proud of you, Azzy. This is a horrible situation, but you did so well today!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you baby. I’m glad he came to me. He’s been sleeping in his car for two days,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should let him sleep in the bed tonight, Azzy. We can pull out the air mattress that we slept on when we first moved in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah - I’ll wake him in a minute and get him into the bed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know - I’m so tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to sleep too. You look exhausted.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Ang said he can’t be alone…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re going to sit vigil at his bedside? Azzy - you won’t do him or yourself any good if you run yourself into the ground!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t let him down!” Az’s voice rose slightly. He looked panicked and scared. “I can’t do that “Licia. I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to off myself, Az.” Dave’s sleepy and gruff voice interrupted him. Both Alicia and Az turned, to see Dave sitting up on the couch - grumpily looking at them. “I’ve been down that road once before - I’d rather not revisit it. No matter what...positive or whatever, I won’t do that again. You, the doctor, that social worker lady - you’ve pretty much all made sure I know this isn’t a death sentence. So, I have no plans to make it one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az carefully assessed Dave’s face - he could only see earnestness there. “Promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise. And if I do start thinking those thoughts again, I’ll call you or Kurt or my therapist…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az - no matter what, I’d like to see what life has in store for me, okay? Now, will one of you please bring me the pad thai I never finished?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia slipped off her stool, grabbing the carton of now cold noodles, and moved over to the couch. “I’m sorry we woke you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stretched. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I took up the whole couch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just sat and watched Dave sit and talk quietly with Alicia. He watched his friend, whose face hung with an intense sadness and a greater sense of his own mortality. But there was something else there too… something brighter than what he’d seen all day There was...hope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave still had hope. Az smiled at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked at him over the back of the couch, “You gonna sit there alone all night or come sit with me and your girlfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good!” Dave smiled. “Can you get a drink - one of those sparkling waters you bought?” Dave glanced at Alicia - clearly he wanted to tell Alicia something without Az overhearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. ‘Licia, want anything?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az walked to the fridge. He heard Dave’s soft, hushed voice - it really was too small an apartment not to overhear everything. “You should be proud of that man of yours. He kept me alive today - he has no idea what he did. But I want you to know - my best friend saved my life today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az gripped the bottle of sparkling water, his hand was trembling. He’d done it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Change. Redemption. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he opened the bottle and poured the water into a glass, he thought about something he’d read this morning in his Fanon reader - “The misfortune of man is that he was once a child.” And yeah, being a child is a misfortune, there’s no doubt about that. But sometimes, those children grow up - and they become adults. They change. They go through the pain and come out the other side - reborn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They knock down everything they had ever been - they do away with every small minded belief that had held them back and hurt themselves and others - and they rebuild. They grow and they evolve and they show the world that they are not the child they once were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They prove that - when the moment comes that they can step up. They can be…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az? My water, dude?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...They can be the friend they were always meant to be.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. \Aftershocks/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Once their rage explodes, they recover their lost coherence, they experience self-knowledge through reconstruction of themselves”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- Franz Fanon</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><h3>
  <span>{One Day}</span>
</h3><p>
  <span>The whole apartment was bathed in silence as Az quietly stepped into the kitchen. It was just past six in the morning, and try as he might, Az could not sleep. He had barely slept all night - every single noise had caused him to practically leap off of the air mattress to go check on Dave. And the whole air mattress situation was not exactly comfortable. Finally, as the sun started creeping through the curtains, he just gave in and got up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As quietly as possible, he set up the coffee maker - making sure to add the pinch of salt that Alicia swore by. He leaned against the counter and waited as the nutty aroma of coffee filled the apartment. He really hoped it wasn’t enough to wake anyone up, but he just couldn’t lie there staring at the ceiling anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the damn coffee maker was even halfway through brewing, he got out his favorite OSU mug and filled it nearly to the brim. Still being as quiet as possible, he moved over to the island, ready to slide onto one of the stools, but stopped when he noticed Dave standing in the doorway of the bedroom - watching him. He nodded at the cup of coffee in Az’s hand, raising an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az went back into the kitchen, getting a second cup and then carried both into the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was sitting up against the headboard, knees drawn up to his chest, with his arms hugging his legs. He was watching the doorway, his eyes sunken with dark bags under them. Az shut the door behind him, and moved to the bed - holding out the second cup of coffee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave let go of his legs and took the mug, lifting it to his lips, sighing softly as he sipped it, while Az settled down on the mattress next to him. He stretched his legs out and wiggled his toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at Dave, forehead creasing in worry, “How did you sleep?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just shook his head. “Didn’t really. Slept for a few hours, but I woke up around three.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave - you needed to sleep!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I just couldn’t - everytime I closed my eyes, I saw the doctor telling me I’m positive. And I knew if I went to sleep, I was going to dream about it. I...I think I started dreaming about dying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I knew what to do next. I..I keep trying to figure out something logical that I could do. Something that’s going to make this better...but nothing will. And all I feel like doing is screaming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you need to scream, Dave, then scream. We won’t care.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. I’m sorry if I woke you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Na - I was already awake. Didn’t really sleep either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I could’ve just slept on the couch…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t where I was sleeping, I just kept thinking about how awful that place was - how grungy and unpleasant and hard it was to be there. Yesterday felt like we were trapped in a nightmare.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like I still am, Az. And I really want to wake up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Fuck! Fuck! I’m sorry, Dave. That was so fucking insensitive to say.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sighed and stared down into his coffee. He squeezed his eyes shut, but tears still flowed freely. “I want this to go away. Like last night, after we ate, I was feeling better - I felt more like myself, but now all I can think of is how there’s this thing that marks me as...dirty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Az. I am. I did something so stupid...how could I have been so stupid Az?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said so yourself, Dave. You trusted him. You believed he wasn’t going to hurt you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I really believed it too. I liked him so much. When we hooked up again, I had kinda hoped that we’d get back together - but after the third time, he stopped calling. Fuck!” Daves’ head dropped back and bumped against the headboard. He sighed, “Az?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave reached out and took Az’s hand. “Please don’t take offense to this, but I am so tired of people I trust disappointing me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hits like a grenade. There’s an explosion of regret in his stomach and his whole body gave a shudder. And his head just sagged forward. He’s not offended, he felt something much worse - shame. He was one of those people who let Dave down… he was the first person who caused Dave to feel like that. “Fuck...I’m so sorry Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az - stop. Okay, please. After yesterday, you  more than made up for what you did. So, please don’t.” Dave tightened his grip on Az’s hand, as though trying to reassure him that he wasn’t mad - that he didn’t want to go back down that road again. “No more of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could go find this Scott guy and punch him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s silence seemed to stretch out for eons, finally he said quietly “I never want to talk to him again. I never want to look at him again. I don’t even want to know he exists. He did this to me - he should’ve been better about testing. He can eat shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something about the hard veil of anger in Dave’s words that reminded Az so much of highschool - of the way Dave would talk about Kurt back then. The harsh and unrelenting refusal of another person’s existence. And yet, as much as Az wanted to acknowledge and support his friends' hurt and hate, there was a niggling feeling in the back of his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This Scott guy - he was dealing with his own diagnosis. He was dealing with facing his own mortality and fragility. He was probably sitting out there somewhere, thinking that he was dirty. But Az had no idea how to even begin communicating that to Dave. Glancing over, he saw that hard set expression that was so familiar. He tried to think of how to break through that wall, when a soft voice drifted into the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just remember that he’s dealing with the same thing, Dave.” Alicia was standing in the doorway, her long purple robe tightly tied around her, and a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, but it was matted with sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swayed into the room, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Looking at Az and Dave with an expression of sleepy sympathy. “I know you’re angry - and you have every right to be angry. But just remember that he’s going through something similar right now too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, it looked like the old fight that was so recognizable in Dave was about to return as he met her gaze. He opened his mouth, clearly ready to fight back, but then he just deflated and sank back against the bed, nodding. But Az knew his friend - he might be conceding defeat, but that anger and hurt and hate was still there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And something told him it was never going to go away. Dave just closed his eyes and quietly said, “Scott has his own journey - it has nothing to do with me now. I need to figure out who I am…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still Dave.” Az said, unclear what Dave was getting at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Az - I’m not just Dave. Not anymore. Now I’m Dave, the guy with HIV. That makes me completely different from the person you knew. Now I have to think about how I can possibly have another relationship - or how i can even think about having sex with another peson? Because from now on, nothing I do with another guy can ever be spontaneous - there’s always going to be an admission and rejection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave…” Az tried to interrupt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was clear that Dave needed to talk - Alicia put a hand on Az’ foot, giving him a sign to just listen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will never be able to have a normal interaction with another person - I’m alway going to need to think about how I’m interacting with them. If I go to the gym, and hurt myself - I’ll need to declare myself. If I go to a bar, and someone wants to make out or ask me out to dinner…or even when I’m having coffee with someone and they ask to taste my drink - I have to explain why I’m saying no. There are a million ors that I have to think about now. I’m no longer just a normal guy. I’m marked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But everything Doctor Ang said yesterday about being undetectable…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. I’m still...dirty inside.” Dave turned his head away from them. He looked resigned and beaten. Shaking his head, he drank his coffee, eyes locked on the windows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them sat there - Az was lost in his head, brain scrambling for something to say or even someone to quote that might give some clarity or support in this situation. For half a second, something that James Baldwin said passed through his mind - “If you're treated a certain way you become a certain kind of person. If certain things are described to you as being real they're real for you whether they're real or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to tell Dave that no one would treat him the way he believes he’ll be treated! That he would be accepted and loved and seen as the person he’s always been. That he will not become this ostracised creature - at least not by those who love and support him. But he's not sure this will be at all helpful - or truthful. Az doesn’t understand the life of someone living with this disease - he doesn’t have that lived experience. And he hurts at the fact that Dave will.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, and this was mostly because it almost felt part of his DNA now, Az fell back on his old friend, Fanon. The same quote that he couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday when Dave was getting the worst news of his life. This time he found himself speaking it aloud, “What matters is not to know the world but to change it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave turned to look at him, a puzzled expression on his face. Alicia just groaned and stretched out on her side, drinking her coffee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Az?” Dave sounded tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Fanon…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus - you and this Fanon guy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, make fun of me all you want. But, I spent all day thinking aobut that quote yesterday, I like to think that it means you can either look around you and accept your world, or you can fuck it up and change it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. I was this bigoted idiot and that was all I knew - I didn’t understand anything else about the world. But then, I started to learn more about the world - I met Alicia, I took classes, I learned a little bit about myself - and I decided to change my world. And I did. You can too! You’re not dirty. You’re not wrong. And so what if you have to tell guys you want to date that you have this thing. Or if you have to tell other people that you hang  out with.  If they reject you, then that’s on them! Not you. Dave, if you don’t like the world you’re going to live in - change it!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat there, silently, then Dave laughed quietly, “Huh. That was unexpected - you really  have gotten fucking smart man. I honestly don’t know how to deal with this new Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever - just...just don’t give up okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sat, seemingly looking at nothing. Then he nodded. “Yeah okay. Thank you.” And Az was blessed with the smallest of smiles. </span>
</p><h3>
  <span>{Three Days}</span>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>The obvious misogynistic representation of masculinity in Do the Right Thing acts to nearly discredit the silent and gentle representation of femininity portrayed by...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stared at the utterly nonsensical sentence he’d managed to write - none of which even made sense, or was even remotely what he actually wanted to say about the damn movie! He actually didn’t even know what he wanted to fucking say about the damn movie! He groaned and angrily hit backspace until the offensive little sentence was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he turned back to his obsessively detailed outline, hoping that it would tell him how to start this next section of his essay. It should be easy - it was an examination of the portrayal of femininity. It was supposed to just talk about how the women are sidelined in place of the men in the movie. He had evidence! He had articles backing him up! He had examples from the movie! It should have been super easy - so why the fuck wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groaned as he pushed himself up from his desk chair. He knew exactly why it wasn’t easy. He was preoccupied. His brain wasn't in the game - it wasn’t here in the apartment, focused on the essay. No, his brain was in Lima with Dave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave and Kurt had left about five hours earlier - planning to drive to Lima, so Dave could talk to his dad. So Dave could tell his dad. And Az had been quite surprised to find that Dave’s fear had found a new depth - the guy had been utterly terrified when he got in his car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But despite dozens of offers, Dave had been adamant that Az not come. Even Kurt had suggested that Az come with them - he’d quickly recognised that Dave and Az had reestablished their close friendship over the past few days. But Dave had refused. He’d drop Kurt off at the Hummel household and then go talk to his dad on his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had to be that way - no if and or buts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as both Az and Kurt knew, once Dave had an idea in his head - there was no convincing him otherwise. No amount of reason or logic would get him to see beyond what he’d decided would be the best course of action. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, Dave had hugged Az so tightly that he’d nearly broken a rib, and then got in his little green car and drove off. Leaving Az and Alicia to try and start picking up the pieces of the last few days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a moment of sheer intensity, Az and Alicia had passionately crashed together, barely able to keep their hands off each other - scrambling into the bedroom where Az had fallen to his knees and worshipped Alicia like a goddess. It had felt as though they desperately needed to reassure each other they were there, alive and drawn to each other. After, in a haze of sweat and sex, they lay in each other’s arms, whispering about the last few days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I’d been there Azzy - on Saturday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I never want to associate you with that place, it’s bad enough that I have to think of that place and Dave together. You’re outside of it - you’re what makes it all better.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I love you, Azzy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too Alicia. I love you so much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, after a shower - and more sex in the shower - Alicia had disappeared to the library to try and make up some time on her Sociology project, while Az threw himself headfirst into his essay. Which was just not happening - not even a tiny bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He poked around in the fridge - pulling out the container of last night’s mac and cheese, and started eating it cold. It was slightly congealed and wasn’t quite as creamy as when it had been hot, but he really didn’t feel like even bothering with the microwave. So cold would do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning back to his desk, he grabbed the Spike Lee Reader, deciding to re-read the damn bell hooks’ essay - maybe it would inspire something...anything! He balanced the container of mac and cheese on this belly, immediately noticing that there had been a large glob of cheese sauce on the bottom, which had now stained his Tupac shirt. He grunted in irritation and opened the book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twenty minutes later, the mac and cheese was gone and he’d managed to read the first paragraph about ten times, without actually absorbing anything. He snapped the book shut and tossed it next to him on the sofa, and yanked off his glasses, dropping them on the coffee table. This was useless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no way he was going to be able to do any work today. No way at all! He needed to hear from Dave - he needed to know that Dave was okay before he could even think about doing anything else. He might as well just go take a nap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got up, making sure to grab his phone, before walking into the bedroom - shedding his shirt, shorts, and boxers as he walked, knowing full well Alicia was going to be annoyed at the trail of clothes on the floor. He threw himself onto the bed, putting his phone on his bedside table, and curled into a ball, shutting his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instantly, he was back in that examination room - the harsh yellow walls, the deplaitated furniture, the stagnant smell of antiseptic with a strong undercurrent of misery and blood. And he was looking into the sad sympathetic eyes of Dr. Ang as she said those words - over and over and over again - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dave - I am so sorry. The test results came back positive</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then that wail. That unending and soul crushing wail that came out of his best friend - so unrelenting and agonizing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az turned over in bed, burrowing deeper into his pillow, trying to press the memories out of his brain. But every time he turned, everytime he shifted, all he heard was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dave - I am so sorry. The test results came back positive. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And then that wail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been like this for three days now. He’d toss and turn, tortured by that one moment on Saturday. Tortured by hearing that his best friend’s life had been thrown into disarray - hearing that his friend had been told, “You have a disease - your blood is tainted. You’re dirty on the inside.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every night since Saturday, he’d lain awake - paralyzed with fear, anxiety, and terror, until his brain got so exhausted that he’d finally fall into a restless sleep. Until his alarm or Alicia woke him up the next morning - usually only a couple hours later. And today, there was a whole new anxiety - he didn’t know what was happening to Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had been Dave’s rock - his support system - his protector for the last few days. Making sure he took his medication, making sure he ate and slept and had a shower. Making sure that he had someone to talk to or had a hand to hold. And now, Dave was in Lima - without any of that. And Az was trying not to completely lose his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He contemplated texting Kurt. They’d been in near constant contact since Saturday - with Az telling Kurt what was happening, or asking about Dave’s favorite things to eat or just anything to help him figure out how to handle this. Ad Kurt replied almost instantly - keeping Az updated on his plans to fly to Columbus, checking about what, if any, clothes Dave had with him, asking gentle questions about medication and treatment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their last message had been a few hours earlier - with Kurt informing him,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Dave dropped me off. He cried most of the drive. Az, I’m scared for him. I don’t know how to help him! But I promise as soon as I hear from him, I’ll call!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Az had stared at that message for a long time. And all he could think was - yeah, Kurt, I have no idea how to help him either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grunting in frustration at his brain refusing to leave him be, he flopped onto this side, so he could look at Alicia’s side of the bed. Her robe was folded carefully and placed on her pillow - he reached out and fingered it. It felt cool. He pulled it towards him, pressing it against his face and inhaling deeply. It smelled like her - honey, lilac and the peppermint from her conditioner. He moaned quietly. Even having just her scent around him made him feel better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He curled into himself, clutching the purple silk robe and considered texting her, asking her to come home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az felt unbearably sad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sobs started slowly, then they began to grow in intensity until his entire body was shuddering with them. He had her robe pressed hard against his face and he was nearly screaming into the fabric. He started to rock himself - his whole body moving on the mattress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands clawed at the robe - almost tearing at it. He would later find that he had actually ripped a hole in it. But for now, he sobbed inconsolably into it. Everything from the past three days came pouring out - the hate and hurt and pain and sadness. He screamed his frustration at the injustice of the world into the robe. He screamed his anger that the only thing that could have brought him and Dave back together again was this...this disease!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then slowly, his sobs started to lessen and his body stilled as he drifted off to sleep. Az fell into a deep sleep - devoid of dreams or the horrors of the last few days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of Beyonce’s Blow woke him. It was Dave’s ringtone, mostly because he had admitted to liking it, so it had instantly been assigned to him in Az’s phone. He rolled over - it was dark in the bedroom, and the apartment seemed still and silent. He wondered where Alicia was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the phone, he sat up - noticing the bedroom door was now closed. Oh, so she was home and probably in the living room. He glanced at his phone - it was still ringing. He swiped to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?’ His voice sounded groggy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Dave sounded exhausted and like he’d been crying for hours. “You sound like you were asleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I was. But I’m awake now. You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I come over? Please? I can’t stay here tonight.” Dave’s voice sounded as desperate as it did three days ago. And once again, Az knew something bad had happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! Is Kurt coming too?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. He’s at his dad’s - they offered to let me stay, but I can’t deal with Burt and Carole tonight. I...I just...please Az?” Dave’s voice just sounded so forlorn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave - you don’t even need to ask. But are you going to be okay to drive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m already halfway there - I just needed to go. I’ll be there in...I’ll just see you when I get there, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Alicia and I will get something on for dinner, but please drive safe, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will. Thank you. Thank you so much.” And then he was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sat there for a second, worry filling his entire body as it had done so for days now. This unceasing sense of apprehension that tethered him to Dave - a feeling that at any second he’d get a very unpleasant call that would ruin his life - a call telling him Dave had… No! Don’t think of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, clearing those thoughts. And instead he focused on what was coming now. He refused to believe that Mr. K. had done anything to Dave - that he had turned away from his son. Dave was everything to his dad. Az knew how hard Mr. K. had worked to keep Dave safe back in 2012. But still, how do you even begin to anticipate what someone would do when you hear news like Dave’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed himself off the bed, walked slowly to the dresser and grabbed a fresh shirt - Alicia had probably already put away his discarded clothes from earlier. He also put on his OSU sweat pants and then shuffled out of the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia was sitting on the couch, watching that lawyer show with Kerry Washington that she loved so much. She looked up as he appeared in the doorway, her smile disappearing the moment she took one look at his face. “What’s happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. But he’s coming back - he sounded upset.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” Alicia sighed, her head falling back against the couch. “Not his dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sighed and moved towards the kitchen, his bare feet making soft footfalls on the parquet floor, “Yeah, his dad.” Az’s disappointment radiated with every word. He opened the fridge, peering inside but not really seeing anything. He could feel tears prickling the corners of his eyes and then suddenly slammed the fridge door shut with a force that actually made it shudder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!” He screamed, slamming is fist against the cool metal of the fridge. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the fridge door, tears running down his cheeks. He was so tired of this. Why the fuck did Mr. K. have to disappoint Dave too!? Why did everyone have to disappoint his friend?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy?” He felt Alicia standing next to him, her hand on the small of his back. “Shhh - sweetie. It’s okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t deserve this! He didn’t do anything to deserve this! How...how could...he just wanted a normal life!” Az’s tears were coming faster now. His whole body started to shake again, just like earlier. “He just wanted...how could this happen to him?” He twisted his entire body towards her, falling into her arms. “Alicia! How!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wrapped her arms around him just as his legs started to give out and they both sank to the kitchen floor - he scrambled into her, grasping at her and started to sob into her chest. She just clutched at him, rocking him slowly and whispering that everything would be okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head - it didn’t feel like anything would ever be okay again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually she managed to move him to the couch, where they sat, silently holding each other. She had switched off most of the lights, except for the side lamp next to the couch. Which cast the room in a shadowy darkness. He lay down on the sofa, putting his head in her lap, and sighed contentedly at the feeling of her fingers playing with his hair. His sadness felt like it was ripping him apart</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had just started to doze off again, when Dave opened the door - “Hey, is it okay if I come in?” Right, he’d forgotten they’d given him their spare key. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia pushed Az’s head off her lap and got up, hurrying to the door. “Of course!” She pulled Dave into a hug, kissing his cheek. Dave wrapped her in a tight hug. Az followed, stretching slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked up at him from where he was resting his head on Alicia’s shoulder, his eyes were red from crying - mirroring Az’s own. He just stared at Az, his eyes already starting to water. Az just stepped up next to him, putting a reassuring hand on his friend’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened Dave?” Az kept his voice gentle and quiet - mostly so he didn’t give away how hard he’d been crying for the last hour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stood up from Alicia’s hug. He was wearing the brown leather jacket Kurt had brought for him from New York, and another NYU shirt, which had a large fresh stain on it. He absentmindedly ran his fingers across it - poking at it as thought testing its freshness. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up on the hook next to the door, then walked over to the couch, sinking down into it with a loud sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Alicia exchanged a look and then followed, taking up their usual spots on either side of Dave. He sat there, eyes closed, his features were set in a deep frown. He had yet to say anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave…” Alicia started, gently. “...honey, what happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We fought.” Dave said as though that explained everything. Az wanted to slap him - the man could go from spilling his guts one second to giving near monosyllabic answers the next. He couldn’t remember if Dave had always been this way, or if the benefit of time had just exposed this little irritant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what did you guys fight about?” Az asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just opened one eye and glared at him - clearly thinking that Az couldn’t be that thick. Then he just sighed before saying, “It was pretty awful - I threw up in the kitchen sink right after I told him. I felt like my insides were going to come out or that I was just going to piss myself - I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared. And that’s saying a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did he say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing - he just sat there for a really long time. Then he just got up and left - like he didn’t say anything to me, he just left. I was freaking out - I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. I didn’t want to call Kurt or you - just in case he came back. I just sat at the kitchen table crying for hours. Finally, he came back and he started yelling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Dave, I’m so sorry.” Alicia whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “It was all the stuff I expected - how could I be so irresponsible? How could I ruin my life? After everything I’ve been through to just play games with my life like that and to have unprotected sex? He just lit into me - I’ve never seen him that mad. And I just sat there - I figured he needed to get it out of his system.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then he told me I was moving home tomorrow that he wasn’t letting me live in New York anymore and I lost it. I told him I wasn’t giving up my future just because of some disease! We screamed at each other for hours - or at least it felt like that. He said some nasty things, I said some nasty things - I just felt like crying the whole time. Like...fuck, you know. I just wanted him to support me. Not tell me this happened because I’m living my life wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he actually say that?” Az’s blood pressure felt like it jumped up a notch or two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but it felt like it. After a while, I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I left and called Kurt. He wanted me to come stay there - but I couldn’t. It would mean more...accusations and having to explain to his family what happened. I just…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry buddy.” Az whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just wanted him to be my dad. I get he’s scared - but I’m scared too…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave trailed off and leaned against Az, who put his arm around Dave’s shoulder’s. They let the quiet fill the room - none of them quite sure what to say or do. Eventually, Alicia broke it by quietly saying, “I think we should order pizza. I don’t want to cook and I think we deserve it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like that idea.” Az gave her a smile across Dave’s head, knowing full well that they probably shouldn’t be ordering in again, not until payday anyways. But also knowing that they needed the comfort - in some small way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you both so much.” It was unclear if Dave was talking about ordering food, or about the sense of comfort they were giving him - but Az had a pretty good idea which it was. “Can we just watch a movie or something tonight? Or do you guys need to do school stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az thought about the unfinished essay sitting on his computer, but just shook his head. “Na, nothing that can’t just wait man.” He reached out and grabbed his phone, “I’m gonna order from Borgata and you can tell us if it really is as good as the stuff you get in New York.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He actually felt Dave smile slightly, “It won’t be, but try your best dude.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Az was arguing with Alicia over why they should order a two larges, Dave’s phone went off. He pulled it out and sighed, “It’s my dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to answer it, honey, if you don’t want to.” Alicia looked up from her phone - open to the Borgata menu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I do.” Dave stood up and walked over to the kitchen island, “Hey dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Alicia both tried to busy themselves with picking a pizza, but despite their best efforts, they couldn’t help but overhear Dave’s side of the conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I left because I don’t need you to tell me how badly I fucked up my life, dad. I already know I fucked up - I just needed you to support me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az gripped his phone in a white knuckle grip, he was desperate to go over and just grab the phone and tell Mr. K. everything that Dave had gone through since Saturday - the anxiety, the horror of that clinic, the terror of being told he had HIV - all of it. He wanted to shake Mr. K. and get him to realize that Dave’s soul had been ripped apart over the last three days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Alicia cover his hand with her own, “He needs you to just stay calm, Azzy.” She whispered. “Trust me - what we’re doing right now, it’s worth more than you losing it and screaming at his dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” He whispered back. “I just...I’m just so angry over all this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, dad, that’s not helping! Of course, I’m fucking scared!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia gripped Az’ hand and slowly directed his finger to tap on one of the pizzas, “Let’s get the one with sausage and mushrooms, and maybe that cheesy garlic bread or the wings you really like.” Az nodded numbly, he couldn’t stop thinking about the connotation of what Dave had just said - did Mr. K. really not think that Dave was scared? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Focus, Azzy… we’re ordering pizza, not listening to Dave. Please focus on the pizza.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and tried to focus - get the supreme pizza...get the cheesy garlic bread. But all he could think of was Fanon - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Demanding yet denying the human condition makes for an explosive contradiction.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If Mr. K. wasn’t careful, Dave would explode and it would not look pretty!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, dad, maybe we need to just cool off tonight, okay? I’ll stay with Az and Alicia and I can come back tomorrow and we can really talk? Please? No accusations. No screaming. Just… I need you dad…” Dave’s voice broke and he started to cry. “I need my dad. I’m so scared.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked at Alicia, his face grim and his breaths coming in hard gasps. “If he rejects Dave, I will burn his world down.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We both will Azzy. But look…” She pointed behind Az. He turned to look, Dave was sitting slumped at the kitchen island, phone clasped to his ear, his voice barely audible to Az and Alicia. “Thank you dad. I love you. I love you. I love you too.” </span>
</p><h3>
  <span>{One Week}  </span>
</h3><p>
  <span>Az hit print on his essay, a sense of utter relief washing over him as he watched the crisp white pages start to shoot out of their cheap little inkjet printer. He picked up the title page, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Y'all take a chill!: The Performance of Hostile Masculinity in Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> It wasn’t his best title - hell this certainly wasn’t his best work overall, but it was done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although, he fucking knew that he was going to read it again tonight and probably start making edits, even though Alicia had told him a hundred times to stop fussing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who the fuck had he become!? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In high school, he routinely handed in crap filled with spelling errors, typos, improbable grammar and all sorts of other insane crap. Hell, he still remembered this one English essay that he filled with as many swear words as he could. He’d been damn proud of that shit - Dave had bust a fucking gut when he saw it. Still, Az carefully stapled the sheets of paper together and put them on top of “random pile of crap number three.” He’d probably remember that’s where it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced at the clock on the stove - damn! It was still early in the day. How had he managed to finish the paper this early? He had the whole afternoon free! He could do anything! Alicia was working at the OSU bookstore all afternoon, which meant that he was completely on his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could go to the gym - it had been over a week since his last visit. He’d last gone the Friday before Dave’s diagnosis. Or...he could lie on his couch, watch some shit tv and chill out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or he could get in his truck and drive out to Lima and check on Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave had been back in Lima since Wednesday morning, driving back just after breakfast, he’d gotten in his car with a promise to call every single day. A promise he had religiously kept - often calling or texting Az dozens of times a day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had only been a week since Dave had found out that his life was never going to be the same again. That he was never going to go a day in his life without medication or be able to just have a meaningless encounter with another gay guy or even have a conversation with someone and wonder if they could tell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that week, Az had watched his friend run the absolute spectrum of emotions. But everytime they talked, someone approximating a cheerful Dave seemed at least to brim under the surface. And that made Az feel insaney glad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deciding to forgo a road trip out to Lima, he picked up his phone and sent Dave a text: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey man! Just wanted to check in. All okay out there?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He dropped the phone on the kitchen counter and started mucking about, considering making himself a grilled cheese - maybe using a fuckton of that hot sauce they had. Yeah, that and a beer would be a fantastic way to celebrate finishing his paper. Maybe that and some shitty movie on TV. Oh! He could finally watch World War Z, since Alicia refused to even acknowledge it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d pulled out the cheese grater when his phone started to ring. He answered and put the call on speaker. “Hey man! You’re on speaker.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sounded tired - which was really par for the course these days. “No problem. What are you doing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Making a grilled cheese sandwich. I finished my paper.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh cool! Congrats.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you still want me to read it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az paused - had he asked Dave to do that? He couldn’t actually remember. “Uh, sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me about the paper on Tuesday night - I said I’d read it if you wanted me to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az grinned. No one besides Alicia and his profs or TAs had read his writing before, but he really wanted Dave to. “Yeah! I can send it to you right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eat your sandwich first, Az. I’m just lying down right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed sadly, as though the very idea of being okay was utterly foreign to him. “No. Not really. I’m tired and I - fuck - I realized something earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to tell some guys about… I, uh, wasn’t exactly chaste after Scott, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shit.” That hadn’t even dawned on Az before now. Shit, that would be important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - fuck. I feel so horrible. I have to make people go through what I went through on Saturday. I could potentially be the reason that someone has to live with this disease. I could’ve infected someone. I...I’m kinda freaking out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az opened his mouth, he just didn’t know what to do. Once again, all possible anecdotes that he had failed in the shadow of what Dave was going through. All he could do was try, “You didn’t know - remember, this was as much of a shock for you as it’ll be for them. Do you have their numbers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I was having breakfast with dad when I realized and I sorta lost my shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just started sobbing into my eggs - I scared dad. He really didn’t want to go to work. He wanted me to go to Kurt’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az wanted to ask how Mr. K. was doing - how he was handling everything and if he'd gotten better with Dave’s diagnosis, but it felt like Dave didn’t need that conversation right now. He needed Az to help with this issue. So, that’s what he’d do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Dave. But how do we handle this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I just need to do it - I just have to call them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just four - one guy from I met at Pride, we dated for like a month. One guy from a bar, we didn’t do much - just made out. But he needs to know. This guy I met online. And then, there’s Liam. He and I were kinda dating - things did not go all that well with him. He...well, it wasn’t exactly working. God, when I list them like that, I sound kind of slutty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not. We both know that if I hadn’t met Alicia, I would’ve made it a personal mission to sleep with as many girls on this campus as possible. You’re twenty-one, Dave. This is the time we’re supposed to do this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not so much anymore. Pretty sure my dating days are over.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave…  you know that’s not true.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Az. I do know it’s true. Look, Az, I don’t want to talk about this. I want to stress out about having to call four really nice guys and potentially ruin their lives…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can leave now and we’ll do it together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Dave. I said I would be there and I’m going to be there! I’ll grab some food on the way and I can be there in like an hour - if I drive in all the ways Alicia hates.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I..I can’t ask you to do this…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never did. Look, I’ll come pick you up, we’ll go to Kurt’s and the three of us will do this together, okay? Then we three can go pretend we’re back in high school and eat at Breadstix or something.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The only answer he got was the sound of Dave’s sobs. Az dumped the grated cheese into a bag and shoved it back into the fridge. Then he sent Alicia a text message - she was going out with her work friends tonight, so she wouldn’t mind. They had a date planned for tomorrow - and he planned to make sure she felt appreciated all night long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m on my way.” Az grabbed his jacket, shoved his feet into his old beat-up Jordans and got ready for a trip to Lima to try and get his friend through this current nightmare. </span>
</p><h3>
  <span>{Two Months} </span>
</h3><p>
  <span>Az stepped out of the shower, groping blindly for his huge bath towel. He grumbled loudly when he realized that he hadn’t actually fully washed the shampoo out of his eyes, which was why he couldn’t see properly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucker.” He mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wiping his eyes madly with his arm and blinking, he managed to clear his eyes enough to see his huge blue towel. He grabbed it and wiped furiously at his face, then started slowly drying himself off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrapping the towel loosely around his waist, he wandered out of the bathroom, pausing in the doorway - noticing that Dave and Alicia were both sitting on the couch, bent over his laptop, he was pointing at something and shaking his head. The couch was still made up as a bed, and Dave had wrapped himself in the giant knitted blanket that he had seemingly adopted as his own. He admitted to it helping with him being almost constantly cold these days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was Dave's monthly visit to Ohio - the compromise that Mr. K. had allowed if Dave insisted on going back to New York for school. So, Dave had rearranged his classes to have a long weekend and, once a month, he came to Ohio for a few days. Usually spending two days with his dad, until he just couldn’t handle it anymore and escaped to spend a day or so with Az and Alicia. This time, they had done it backwards, so Dave could spend Saturday with Az before having to drive to Lima on Sunday morning, to stay with Mr. K. until Tuesday when he would fly back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heading into the bedroom, he dropped the towel and grabbed a pair of jeans and the I Heart New York t-shirt that Dave had given him. He changed quickly before wandering back out into the living room - the curtains were still drawn, so the whole room was bathed in murky shadows. Alicia had wandered into the kitchen, leaving Dave to sit on the couch, huddled under the blanket and staring at his laptop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az walked into the kitchen, grabbing a coffee and kissing Alicia while she passed him on her way to the shower. She grabbed his arm, leaning up and whispering, “He needs to talk, I did what i could, but I think it’s you he needs.” Az just nodded. There had been something in the air since Dave had arrived - a weird tension - as though he was working through something, but just wasn’t ready to talk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pouring a second cup, he walked back into the living room and plunked himself down next to Dave - holding out the steaming cup. “Here, babushka, a fresh cup.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave had the blanket drawn up over his head and it was pulled so far forward that you could only see his nose from the side. He turned slowly, revealing a fully bearded face with eyes that looked like bruises. Az knew that the beard had been grown because of the inflammation Dave had started to suffer from his treatment. His skin looked a bit red and blotchy, which could just be because of travelling the night before and the aftereffects of sleeping on the couch. Or a lack of sleep, given how dark the circles under his eyes were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because I have a Polish last name, does not mean you can call me a babushka.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like one right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you.” Dave mumbled and turned back to his laptop, with a tiny half smile on his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az settled himself back onto the sofa - already amazed at how many lumps he seemed to be sitting on - they really needed to think about a new sofa. “So, what are we looking at?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s depressing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What isn’t?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You two aren’t. You and Alicia are never depressing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have our moments. But for real, man, what’s going on?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just pivoted his laptop towards Az, and all he could see without his glasses were the huge block letters - </span>
  <b>Disclosing Your Status: How to Tell People You’re HIV+. </b>
  <span> It looked like a website from the San Francisco Public Health Office. Az scanned the screen - he noticed a bunch of what looked like scenarios or something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced back at Dave, who just looked miserable. Az sipped his coffee - staying silent. Over the last two months, he had learned something quite significant of having an adult Dave as a friend - sometimes Dave just needed silent encouragement before he was ready to talk. Sometimes it really was the only way to get him to talk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave let out one of his enormous sighs, before starting to talk. “Someone stopped talking to me last week because I’m positive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az’s grip got exceptionally tighter on his mug. “What happened?” He hoped his anger wasn’t too obvious in his tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This girl in my inorganic chemistry class, we hung out a lot last year. She asked me if I was okay - I’d just had my doctor’s appointment, so I felt like shit. And I just kind of blurted it out. She looked so shocked, and that night she texted and said she’d rather not hang out anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then she’s a shit person and doesn’t deserve your frienship.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think Kurt said that - verbatim.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then, Kurt is as smart as he looks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave scrolled through the website, eyes downcast. “Yeah, he is. But it made me realize that telling people… I’m scared to do it. Sometimes, I feel like I have a giant sign around my neck that says, TAINTED BLOOD. I feel so ashamed when I tell someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you talking to your therapist?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes - she’s trying hard to help me. We’re talking about having me go back on antidepressants for a while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe that’ll be good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave didn’t even bother responding to Az’s question, he just moved on. “She said I should do some reading to help me feel more comfortable about telling people - and to try telling those people I trust first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave fiddled with the edge of his laptop, “Yeah. A little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told Rachel and San.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did it go?” Az already knew both Santana and Rachel would pay dearly if they let Dave down - both he and Kurt would retaliate. And honestly, Az wouldn’t mind going head to head with Santana.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rachel just got really quiet and then made me soup. Santana… she cried a lot. Then asked me what she could do to help me, which was nice. I dunno - I haven’t really talked to them much lately.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? They live with Kurt! Why on earth wouldn’t you spend time with them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s easier to be alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az realized that one day he was just going to strangle Dave - the man’s penchant for self loathing was the stuff of legend. “Dave… that’s not healthy. Fuck, I know nothing about what you’re going through, but I know that much. You can’t just cut yourself off from your friends. You need friends! Right now, more than ever.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s easier, Az. I can always call you or Kurt or my dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your dad and I are a thousand miles from you, and Kurt’s just one guy - you need to spend time with your friends, Dave. You’ll get lonely and that’s bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already am lonely, Az. But I’m not really someone they want to hang out with anyways - it’ll just end up being like that girl from school.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not! I’m...I’m different! I’m dirty! I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore! Okay! I don’t know who I am...I…” Dave fell silent. He stared at his laptop, fingers running over the trackpad, switching tabs on his browser and Az saw a page listing support groups for people living with HIV in New York. He shook his head and bit his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az leaned closer to Dave. “Tell me. Let me help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t feel like Dave anymore. Everything is wrong about me…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing wrong with you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up! And just listen to me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave snapped his laptop shut and turned to Az. “Everything about me is wrong! All of this…” He motioned at himself. “... it belonged to a different Dave. This hair - I decided on it when I was negative. My clothes - they don’t feel right anymore. Every single thing about me is...I don’t know who the fuck I am. All I know is that I’m twenty-fucking-one years old and I have to deal with trying to understand what it means to be HIV positive! I barely know how to decide what to have for lunch most days - how do I do this!? I don’t know how to talk to people! I don’t know how to hang out with Santana or Rachel or even Kurt! Because… because I’m not the Dave they fucking knew!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az opened his mouth - he saw Alicia watching from the bedroom door, looking worried. He tried to think of something to say, but before he could even get a word out, Dave kept going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Except you! You never knew me as anything but the guy from high school. You don’t know what I’ve been like for the last few years! You and I...we have this awesome history. But you know nothing about the gay version of me! And then, you were there - you’re the only one who was there! You helped me! You don’t give a fuck about what I have inside me! So I can talk to you! So, can you tell me! Can you fucking tell me who the fuck I am! Because I don’t know and I...I hate it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shoved his laptop off the sofa, it landed softly on the rug under the coffee table, then he sank his head into his hands and started to cry.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sat there, staring into his coffee. Dave was right. Az didn’t know who Dave had been since he’d come out - Az and Dave had never had a conversation about the guys Dave dated outside of the awfulness of his diagnosis. Az didn’t know how Dave had felt about Lee or Kurt or even Scott, because he hadn’t been there. All Az knew was the guy who had walked back into his life two months ago on what ended up being the last day of that person’s life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One Dave had walked into the clinic back in August, and a very different Dave had emerged. But did that matter? Everything Az had heard and read about living with HIV told him that people like Dave needed to realize that their lives did not end at their status. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed his brain to help - to just step the fuck up and do something that wasn’t some damn quote or random fact about some random person or some analytical idea or whatever. But something that would help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he remembered - he remembered a pile of photos, dozens of photos littered over his mom’s kitchen table. All forcing him to remember how awesome his friend had been...forcing him to face how badly he needed to change. One moment which eventually led to another - to this moment. He remembered his mom’s voice - </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You need to learn that Dave is...just Dave. He’s no different because he’ll have a husband one day rather than a wife. He’s your friend and he’s hurting and a little lost.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>If his mom could do that for him...then he could maybe help Dave in the same way.</span>
</p><p><span>He held out his hand, “Give me your phone.”</span> </p><p>
  <span>Dave lifted his head up. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia had moved into the living room now, perched on the back of the sofa. He shook his hand, “Your phone, dumbass, give it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave picked up his phone from the coffee table, unlocked it, and handed it over. “Okay…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az drank his coffee and opened Dave’s photos - he noticed that the last photo was from a week ago, a shot of an insanely small dog being walked by an insanely buff guy. This at least meant that Dave was still finding things in life that he wanted to remember. Although, Az was curious if it was the dog or the guy that had drawn Dave’s attention. Or maybe both?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrolled through the photos, twisting his body away when Dave tried to grab back his phone. “Hey! Could you not! There are some photos in there I’d rather you not see!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, Az had noticed the nudes - but that’s not what he was looking for - although kudos to Dave for feeling that good about his body...actually there were a lot of nudes in there. He glanced at Dave with an raised eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az - seriously, give it back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, you were really feelin’ yourself huh? How many dick pics did you need? And you’re a big fan of the naked mirror selfie huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“AZIMIO! Give me my phone!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah - there we go. Az had found what he was looking for. He tapped on one of the photos - it was of Dave with Santana and Kurt at a restaurant or something. Dave was standing behind the other two, his arms draped over their shoulders - and all of them had been caught mid laugh. He held up the phone. “What’s happening here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked confused. “Huh? Uh - I don’t...just give me my phone!” His hand shot out, grabbing for his phone </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az jerked his hand away and shook the phone again. “What’s happening in this photo, Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’d gone out to this shitty play that a friend of Kurt’s had put on - Santana and I both almost felt asleep, it was so fucking boring. It was three hours of one guy on stage doing monologues from famous romantic comedies. We made Kurt take us for late night Chinese after - Kurt had just told a story about this guy he’d hooked up with, and how he’d accidentally took the guys shoes when he snuck out in the morning. It was fun - I made the server take our photo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded and pulled the phone back, scrolling through the photos again - tapping on another one. This was of Dave standing in front of a huge stone arch, he had a huge smile on his face. He held it up. “And this one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was my first full day in New York - I’d gone to NYU to get my ID, Kurt came with me. We ran around campus - holding hands and finding all my classrooms. I was so excited - we walked around campus for hours and then took a bunch of selfies by the Washington Square Arch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.” Az scrolled again. He tapped on another - Dave with a group of guys, including Kurt - and what looked like a very sparkly drag queen. “And this one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adam’s birthday party - Kurt asked me to help organize it. We went out to the Stonewall Inn Bar and danced all night long. There was a big drag show - that’s us with Jinkx Monsoon. That guy next to me, that’s Lee. We drank so much and had awful pizza at this gross place right after.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, one more.” Az tapped on what might be the riskiest photo - Dave, naked, lying in bed, the sheets covering his lower half. He held it up. “This one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re joking right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope - tell me! We’re all friends here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking psychopath! Lee took that - he was a photography student, and thought it was a great shot. We’d spent the whole morning in bed, watching tv, drinking coffee and having sex. He said I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Kurt convinced me to use that photo on my Grindr profile - I think he actually took a copy for himself. Az what the fuck is all this about!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just held the phone out to Dave, “Look at these photos Dave. Look at them all - that’s who you are. You’re the guy who eats Chinese food late at night with your friends. You’re the guy who was so proud of being at NYU that you made your boyfriend spend hours taking photos there. You’re the guy who goes out and parties with a drag queen. And you’re the guy in that last photo - the sexiest thing someone has ever seen!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked down at his phone, frowning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave - I know you feel different! I mean, fuck how can you not! But you’re also still that same guy! And you have friends - a lot of them! You’re not alone - and the people in your life, they’re going to want to know this different Dave too. Dave, trust me when I say that a photo can change your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Alicia settle next to him on the couch, her hand slipping into his. He took a breath and continued, “These little photos reveal our whole lives. I have a whole collection of photos of you and I - they reminded me of what we were to each other, when I needed them to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping his hand firmly wrapped around his phone, Dave looked back up. “You are not a normal twenty-one year old.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az - since August, you’ve quoted philosophy to me, talked to me about racial politics, supported me through an HIV diagnosis, and now essentially did some kind of weirdass theorizing about photographs… do you know what other twenty-one year old college students are doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of that, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! They drink a lot. They spend their time having sex or trying to have sex. They act like fools - but they don’t act like this. They’re acting like I was acting until August happened.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave… you can still act like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m not that person anymore - I honestly don’t know who I am anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s okay. It’s just that I don’t want to lose you, okay? I just got you back. And it’s okay if you don't know who you are, but please try to remember who you were, okay? Cause you’re still that guy - just a little different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I just… I’m so scared. And I don’t feel at all like myself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I make a suggestion…” Alicia leaned forward on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded and smiled at her - his adoration for her was so obvious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Change something. Even if it’s a little thing - your hair - and see if it helps you feel more like yourself. You have this big new part of you, right? Well, if your outside doesn’t totally reflect the inside, then change something outside. But Az is right, don’t forget about who you were - just find a way to combine the two Daves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave continued to stare at his phone - Az could see that he still had the photo of him in bed open. “Yeah - I’m just not sure exactly how to do that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one is saying you need to figure that out right now, honey.” Alicia said softly. “You get to take as much time as you want to figure that out - right now, focus on the problems in front of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like telling people?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And make sure you spend some time with friends - you need to, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave grunted, downed the rest of his coffee and pushed himself up off the couch - “I’m gonna shower. Look, guys - thank you for talking to me about this. I know that I can’t just rely on you or Kurt or my dad. But, it’s all just too much right now - and I get scared really easily. But...maybe, I’ll call Santana when I get back to the city.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s all we're asking, man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without another word, Dave walked into the bathroom. He paused before shutting the door, scratching his beard. “Az, can I borrow your beard trimmer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t so much the request that surprised Az, more that Dave actually wanted to get rid of the bead. He had grown it to distract from the recent puffiness that his medication had created - but hey, if Dave wanted to shave, then Dave shall shave. “Sure man. It’s charging on the shelf next to the sink.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Dave disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Az and Alicia to sit on the couch and drink their coffee. Az looked over at Alicia, a worried look on his face. “Do you think I helped, Licia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That photo thing was brilliant, Azzy. You helped.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It helped when my mom talked to me about going to PFLAG. I hope he listens.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did. Azzy, you should go write that stuff down - about photographs - you could totally talk about that stuff in that black visual culture class you’re taking next semester!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sat up, his face slowly settling into a look of concentration. Yeah - he could! He jumped up and hurried over to his desk, grabbing the notebook Alicia had given him at the start of the semester - calling it Az’s idea book. He flipped to an empty page and started writing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thirty minutes later, he was five pages deep, working on an idea about how photographs were essentially incomplete snapshots showcasing a person’s life. Allowing you to see and experience a frozen moment in time, without context. And to fully understand an individual's life, you needed to see as many snapshots as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t fully formed. It wasn’t even that much of an idea yet - in fact it was extraordinarily obvious, but it was an idea. It was something. Something he could work with - maybe he’d email the prof for that class and talk to him about the idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the bathroom door open and Dave walked back out, shirtless. Az glanced up, eyes widening in surprise. Dave’s beard was still there - dark and thick on his face - but every speck of hair on his head was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned at Az. “What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it - and as someone who was bald all through high school, I can honestly say it’s a good look on you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Thanks. I sent Kurt a photo…” Dave held up this phone, it was open to his text messages with Kurt - obviously, he’d taken a mirror selfie. The message totally confused Az. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I did go bald before thirty! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed softly to himself and walked over to his duffel bag. “There’s a lot I still need to tell you about high school, huh?” Az wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but there was a change about Dave suddenly - he seemed a bit lighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still looked exhausted and like the world was slowly crushing him, but he also seemed ever so slightly lighter than he had thirty minutes before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and I texted San - we’re hanging out on Wednesday. Gonna go get cupcakes and talk. So, thank you for pushing me to do that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az legit felt like crying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{See, photographs work every time.}</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. \Incomplete Snapshots - pt. 1/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“A photograph can show us the briefest moment of our lives - it can show us a smile or a frown or a laugh or a sob. But how do we collect together the meaning of a person’s life through the photograph? Simple, we gather together as much as we can - spread them out before us and follow the thread of a life.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- Azimio Adams-Larenn</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Photograph in Black Visual Culture</span>
  </em>
  
</p><hr/><h3>
  <span>{November 2014}</span>
</h3><p>
  <span>Az got out of his truck, pulling his leather jacket a little tighter around himself, trying to block out the biting November wind. Involuntarily, he shivered as he looked at the house in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he was shivering because of the cold or out of fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, Alicia stepped up next to him, looking perfectly at ease in her incredibly long wool coat. Her long hair tied up in a bright orange scarf and her round silver glasses glinting in the late afternoon sun. She smiled at him, reassuringly. “You don’t have to be so nervous, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's not you who the guy hates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t hate you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I do. Dave told us when he invited us that his father does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> hate you. So, let’s go inside and have a lovely Thanksgiving dinner with your best friend and his family.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have the pie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She held up the double stacked boxed from Just Pie Inc. “Of course I do, now stop worrying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he kills me, I want you to arrange a state funeral - see if you can get Beyonce or Blackalicious to perform. And if they do, I want them to do My Pad and Pen, please.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy, you’re being ridiculous. Dave told you his dad asked for you to come. And Dave wants you here - now stop it and let’s go inside. I want a glass of wine.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on his cheek before walking up to the front door. Az sighed and hurried after her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dave had called two weeks earlier with an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner, the first thing Az had really wanted to do was go crawl in a hole and hide - regardless of how badly he wanted to support Dave. Seeing Mr. K. again was highly anxiety producing. But then Alicia had sat him down and, for the first time in their relationship, gave him a talking to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reminded him that Dave was still struggling with his diagnosis - still looking at himself as someone who needs to be isolated from others. She reminded him that Dave still saw himself as dirty or tainted. And no matter how brave of a face he put on, Dave was floundering. And this was going to be the first family holiday after his diagnosis. So maybe, just maybe, he wanted his best friend there for support. And Az just needed to suck up his anxieties and fears, and do the thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had swallowed his fear and called Dave. He apologized for not saying yes right away and then said he and Alicia would be happy to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Didn’t mean he wasn’t scared shitless though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hurried after Alicia, grabbing her arm before she rang the doorbell. “Wait! Do I look okay? Is my beard okay? I tried to clean it up, I didn’t make it too short, did I? And my hair?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look great, Azzy. The beard is perfect - I like it this way, and your afro looks cute. Now, come on.” She rang the doorbell and he caught her nervously fiddling with her coat. Oh! She was nervous too! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened and a tall brunette woman was standing there, smiling at them. “You must be Azimio and Alicia! Hello! I’m Sandra!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az genuinely had no idea who this person was, but he smiled and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Az and this is my girlfriend Alicia.” He gestured towards Alicia, who gave a small wave. The woman, ignoring Az’s outstretched hand, instead she threw open her arms and pulled them both into a hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, in the years since high school, and since Az had become much more involved in race politics, he has discovered the unique awkwardness in having strange white people hug him. He’d never really been a fan of hugging.  As a kid he’d tolerated hugs from his mom and grandparents and Dave; and now, it was only Alicia, his mom or Dave who really got to hug him. But strange white people, well he really would rather not. However, he’s here for Dave and if the strange unknown white women who answered Dave’s door wanted to hug him...well, fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandra pulled out of the hug, but cupped his face - another weird awkward thing he’s not a fan of - and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He was about thirty second away from screaming when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted whatever weird white person thing Sandara was about to do next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned away, smiling, to reveal Paul Karofsky standing at the end of the entranceway. He wasn’t smiling - a fact that sent a river of worry through Az’s gut. Mr K. stepped forward, and Az could see that the man looked older - his face was drawn and tired looking, with deep bags under his eyes. Even his beard looked dull. He had gained quite a bit of weight in the last two years - and he just exuded a sense of utter exhaustion. He was wearing a pair of slacks, a yellow button up shirt and a dark grey cardigan sweater - he looked so much older than his 48 years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az watched as Mr. K took him in - the leather jacket that accentuated Az’s broad figure, the bearded face, the afro, and the gold glasses he had on. Az wondered what Mr. K. thought of him now - whether he still saw the ignorant and hurtful child that he’d once been or if he saw someone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az needed to be brave - he needed to show this man, who had once been as close to a father as he was ever going to get, that he was no longer that child. That he was a man. He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Happy Thanksgiving, Sir.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Mr. K. looked at the hand. His eyes seemed so sad, then he looked back up at Az’s face. Never had Mr. K. looked so vulnerable or sad  and Az was completely taken aback at the tears that were starting to fall. Suddenly. Mr. K. surged forward, pulling him into a hug - arms wrapping tightly around Az’ back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood there for a moment, being held, until he remembered he should be hugging back. He slowly brought up his arms and tightly hugged Mr. K. He could hear soft words being muttered against his jacket. “Thank you. Thank you for helping my son.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he could think to do was nod - he hadn’t expected this. He really hadn’t expected this. Out of all the scenarios that he could have anticipated, that he would be welcomed with such a massive outpouring of gratitude from Mr. K. was not at all on his radar. He gently patted the older man’s back, wondering how long he should let the hug go on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad...it’s okay. I think you can let poor Az go now.” Dave’s calm voice drifted into the hallway, it carried with it the barest hint of a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked up from Mr. K.’s shoulder. Dave was standing on the stairs, leaning against the wall. He was wearing a pair of heather grey sweatpants and a green t-shirt that proudly declared ‘Chubby Guys Cuddle Better’. He still had his beard, which had grown fuller and thicker, effectively making him seem so much older than twenty-one - and Az supposed he kind of was now. He was still sporting the bald look, but now there was the barest hint of peach fuzz on his head. He looked bigger than even a month ago. Az knew that his medication was causing him to pack on the pounds, which was causing no small amount of stress. And, as always, Dave carried a look of the extreme exhaustion and stress on his face. He smiled at Az and continued down the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. K. pulled back, wiping his eyes furiously. “Sorry about that, Az. I uh, I just wanted to say thank you for how well you took care of my boy back in August.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked down at his feet, considering and preparing his thoughts before saying anything. “Mr. K., sir, I just want you to know that I am so incredibly sorry for how I acted two years ago. It wasn’t right and I’m sorry I let you down. I promise I’m not like that anymore - I’ve grown up a lot. And I hope you can eventually forgive me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. K.’s face broke out into a huge smile. “Az, my boy, I know. Dave’s told me everything - all the good things you done, and are doing. And you proved yourself more than you know - trust me. I’ve forgiven you, now please come on back to the kitchen and introduce me to this beautiful young lady you brought with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded and turned to introduce Alicia, who was standing behind him with her hand clasped to her mouth and tears in her eyes. “Uh, this is my girlfriend Alicia.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr.K moved like lightning and engulfed Alicia in her own bone crushing hug. Az watched with amusement as she slowly patted Mr. K.’s back - muttering reassurances. Apparently, this was going to be a very huggy day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave again was the one who maneuvered his dad to let up the hugging. As Mr. K. stood back, again wiping his eyes, he seemed to notice, for the first time, the thin brown haired woman watching everything with a bemused expression. He gestured to Sandra, “Oh! I’m sorry! I haven’t even introduced you to my girlfriend, Sandra.” Az immediately was worried this would create another massive hug fest, but Dave gently shooed his dad and Sandra towards the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get their coats hung up, dad, why don’t you two go get us some wine going?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. K. hugged Dave tightly - then gripping Dave’s shoulder and staring at his son’s face before following the very bubbly Sandra into the kitchen, who happily carried the pie boxes. The moment they were gone, Dave sagged against the wall, almost sliding down to the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning. Alicia and Az were by his side in a flash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave? You okay?” Alicia whispered. Clearly picking up on something that Az had not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “I’m sorry. My dad is exhausting me. I’ve been here for three days and he won’t stop watching my every move or hovering over me constantly. It’s like he’s waiting for me to collapse or something and I’m just really tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s just worried, man.” Az whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know - I just...I need a break from it. It’s unrelenting. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure, man? You tell us, we can play defense with your dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I’m hoping. He wants to know everything about you two. Especially you , Az - he’s fascinated by this whole Az the scholar thing you have going on. So, I’m sorry but I’m throwing you both to the wolves for the night.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Alicia said, smiling, “If there’s one thing we can do is entertain the white folks for an evening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave smiled and straightened up, opening his arms, “Good. Now I demand a hug.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Az stepped into the living room, carrying two bottles of beer - some local microbrewery. He held one of them up, “When the fuck did Lima get a microbrewery?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was lying on the sofa, lazily rubbing his stomach, groaning softly with his eyes closed. He smiled, “About the same time as when those hipster coffee shops opened up. It’s weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az shoved Dave’s feet off the sofa and plopped down, holding out one of the bottles - Dave happily took it as he sat up. “I think Alicia is bringing us more pie soon.” He noticed a book - <strong>Living with HIV</strong> - was lying on the side table next to Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was absolutely overjoyed to be out of the kitchen and away from Mr. K.’s almost constant questions that he had endured for the last three hours. At first, it had been pretty normal - what kind of classes? What do you want to do after college? Are you thinking about grad school? And then the questions got much more intense - tell us everything you’ve read about black studies so far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d almost sighed in relief when Mr. K had asked Alicia about what she wanted to do - of course when she mentioned law school, that had sent him off on an almost euphoric diatribe about the law. What kind of law do you want to practice? Do you want to stay in Ohio for law school? Here, let me list fifteen law firms I can recommend to article at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Alicia and Az had looked at each other with sheer apprehension, until they saw how happy Dave was, just sitting there eating his dinner in peace. Then they’d sucked it up and fielded the next volley of questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, as Az was helping to clear the table, Alicia pressed two beers into his hands and whispered, “Go! Escape with Dave!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He momentarily felt bad when he heard Mr. K. starting to ask whether she had taken any practice LSAT tests yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave gave a small stretch, glancing towards the kitchen, “How can you eat more! And she shouldn’t be trapped in there helping with dishes. My dad can get really intense about law stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was her way of letting us get some time alone. And I bet you she’s loving it. She’ll make him write her a reference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Dave took a swig of his beer. “I’m sorry my dad put you guys through the inquisition over dinner.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay - I liked it.” A tiny white lie. “I never get to talk about school like that. Alicia’s heard it all a million times and mom just rolls her eyes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can talk to me about it, you know? I want to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I do. I’m so impressed, I want to know what you’re doing.” Dave smiled and he fiddled with his beer bottle, a small tired smile on his face. “We’ve spent so much time talking about...me…” Dave fell silent for a second, thinking. He looked over at Az, “...I don’t know all that much about you, Az.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh - well, you kind of heard a lot of it at dinner.” Az wasn’t sure what Dave meant - he knew a lot. He knew Az had a fantastic girlfriend. He knew Az loved school and black culture and he knew… wait. What else did he actually know? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what about the stuff that isn’t school? What about all that stuff - like do you still listen to Niki Minaj or like reading mysteries or are you still an NCIS troll or whatever, and do you still like watching football on Sundays? All those things, I know what high school Az did...but this Az, I don’t know him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az shrugged. But Dave was right - ever since August, all they’d talked about was Dave’s diagnosis and how Dave was handling that. And for everything that Dave didn’t know about Az, there were a million things he didn’t know about Dave. “I feel the same way, man. Like do you still listen to garbage sad boy music? Are you still into sci fi? Do you still ice skate?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like we went through this intense thing together back in August, but we never took the time to learn about each other again.” Dave said, tucking his legs under him, and settling back into the corner of the couch to face Az. “Like I know what you’re like in a crisis, but I have no idea what you do when things aren’t insane or when you’re not thinking your big thoughts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how do we fix that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We talk? Az, I want us to be best friends again, okay? So, let’s make that happen. And for the record, I didn’t listen to sad white boy music - I listen to indie rock.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It’s still lame, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such an asshole.” Dave laughed. “Smart, but still an asshole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sat there, smiling. Then an idea formed - and shockingly it had nothing to do with school or Fanon, but everything to do with Dave. “Hey, man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, we’re staying at my mom’s tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you wanna hang tomorrow? Like Alicia kinda wanted to go to some black Friday sales, but I’m not into it. Maybe we could hang out? Go for a drive or something - like we used to?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember when we used to buy like a fuckton of McD’s and drive out to McFarley’s field and sit in the car and pig out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck! Yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s do that. Let’s go be fucking pigs and just talk.” Dave lifted his beer bottle. “To becoming Dave and Az again, official dipshits of Lima, Ohio.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az knocked his beer to Dave's massive smile spreading on his face. “I have one rule, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hit me with it.” Dave said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not get heavy - I won’t talk about my school shit and we won’t even go near crap that might make you upset? Deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal. But that means you gotta tell me something about school now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az thought for a moment, there was one thing - a big thing - that only Alicia knew. He smiled, “I want to apply to UCLA for grad school.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - Licia wants to go to Harvard Law, but UCLA has a really good African American Studies Masters, I think I have this dream of going to Harvard for my PhD. But I don’t think I’m really good enough.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to get a PhD? That’s something you didn’t tell my dad. And fuck you. You’re the smartest guy I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The man started crying when I told him I got a full scholarship this year - I was worried that telling him I want to do a PhD would break him. But, yeah - I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I’m really good at this stuff Dave - like better than anything else I’ve ever done. But I dunno...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so fucking proud of you! And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to apply to UCLA and Harvard - I’ll help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. Dave. Fuck, I’m glad we’re back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too. I really wish it could’ve been...different. But out of all the awfulness of this thing, I’m glad it got us back as friends.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too. And Dave, I’m sorry your dad is being...intense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s pretty fragile.” Dave sighed again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...can I ask how you’re doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired a lot. I’ve gained a lot of weight because of the drugs - but I’m trying to get back to the gym, although I can only work out for a little bit at a time. And I’m working with my therapist to deal with...you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Dave, I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I seem to have gotten the idea stuck in my head that because I’m positive I won’t find love.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az took Dave’s hand, “That’s bullshit Dave. You are literally the most loveable man alive - no matter what.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know - I’m figuring that out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And your viral loads?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked surprised at that, his eyebrows rising dramatically, as though questioning how Az remembered to ask something like that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember every single thing Dr. Ang told us, Dave.” He said flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a good friend. And my loads are going down - dramatically so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s awesome! Are you still okay with school?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a few extensions - but somehow I managed to keep my grades up, I’m really happy about that. Kurt’s been good. He dotes on me a lot - sometimes a little too much. It’s like because of my diagnosis, I’m not capable of doing anything on my own. But he makes me dinner, comes by to check on me, even does my shopping if I’m too exhausted to do it. Rachel and Santana want me to move in with them when Kurt moves out next month.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is Kurt going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He and Adam are moving in together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...you haven’t told him how you feel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Not going to either - he’s so happy with Adam and I’m...I’m dealing with a lot…I’m nowhere near ready to be in a relationship, hell I’m not even ready to go out on a date or anything.” Dave trailed off as plates of pumpkin pie appeared in front of them. “Thank you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az happily took his plate as Alicia sat down next to him and snuggled against him. He used his fork to break off a piece of piece and offered it to her. She smiled and shook her head. “Sandra kept making me try her monkeybread… I think we’re getting a lot of leftovers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed softly and then turned to look at them, “Hey, can I ask  you guys something?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az mumbled an affirmative through a mouthful of pie, Alicia rolled her eyes and answered, “Of course, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you guys come visit me in New York?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look on Alicia’s face was pure radiance. She nearly threw herself over Az at Dave. “Yes! Absolutely! When!?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking around Christmas, but I might still be too tired from getting used to the medication to really show you around, so maybe in the new year?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az noticed Mr. K. and Sandra walk in - Mr. K. 's eyes went straight to the book next to Dave, a heavy frown settling on his face. He would have to remember to talk to Dave more about his dad’s reaction to the diagnosis soon - it was pretty obvious that Dave was exhausted and Az was worried Mr. K. was a big part of all that. Maybe Az could take Mr. K. to a PFLAG meeting or something.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But right now, he really didn’t want to worry about that. Right now, he felt like eating his pie while listening to his best friend and girlfriend make plans for a New York visit. It was Thanksgiving and he felt so insanely grateful - he had his best friend, he had his girlfriend and he had Mr. K. back in his life. And tomorrow, he and Dave were going to really get their mojo back. He was sure of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dave’s hand disappeared into the enormous paper bag, pulling out a handful of fries and dumping them onto the napkin covered front dash of Az’s truck. “You know, I am not entirely sure I should be eating this much salt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just shrugged. “Once in a while won’t kill you.” He took a huge bite of his Big Mac and chewed happily. “Fuck, man, I forgot how much I loved doing this!” He mumbled around his full mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting in the cab of his truck, parked on the side of a dirt road, just off route 65, with the wide expanse of farm fields rolling out in front of them. The trees surrounding them almost seemed painted in a wash of reds and yellows and oranges. In the distance, Az could see a giant green tractor moving slowly through the fields. It felt so quiet and calm out here. It felt like they were the only people in the world - him, Dave and tractor guy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trunk stank like the greasy saltiness of McDonald’s and whatever soap Dave had used that morning - it smelled like sandalwood and eucalyptus. Az wasn’t mad at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t said much since Az had picked Dave up about two hours earlier - mostly sitting in companionable silence, wandering around downtown Lima before grabbing their food and driving. But now, all Az wanted to do was talk. He wanted to know everything about his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned in his seat. “So… tell me what makes Dave tick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed and shook his head. “Nope - doesn’t work like that. We both gotta share.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I say one thing, you say one thing. Deal. And remember - nothing heavy. No school, no HIV talk, none of that. Just us, shooting the shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I talk about Alicia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes - but you’ll excuse me if I don’t talk about the men in my life. I think you got a crash course in them back in August.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded - and yes, he thought, he really did know too much about that particular subject.  Okay, here goes nothing, “I haven’t played football in more than two years and I don’t miss it at all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed. “Neither do I. I’m really happy I left that jock persona behind in high school! Last fall, Kurt joined a touch football thing, because Adam wanted to. I had to spend an entire afternoon in Central Park trying to teach him now to play. He was terrible at it, but loved playing. I played one game with them - it was okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember when he was the kicker for McKinley - he was good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was still on the hockey team at that point - it was the first time I noticed him. I think I fell in love right then and there. But I was so repressed,...” Dave’s entire body shuddered. “Okay! I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to go back down that road.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can - if you need to. How about you tell me one thing about high school and then we move on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was an awful time for me, Az. I felt so...repressed and awful about everything. There were a lot of nights when I thought about disappearing. It took me a long time to get over it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I’d been more...there for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wouldn’t have mattered - I wasn’t talking to anyone. I hated myself a lot and I took that hate out on Kurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet, he still dated you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A true miracle!” Dave laughed, throwing a fry into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d it happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave turned to look at him, a look of surprise on his face. “You want to hear that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would I have asked otherwise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave rolled his eyes. “Whatever - okay, here’s the spark notes version. He knew how I felt about him, but after my attempt, I didn’t have the capacity to even think about being with someone. So, we never talked about it. According to him, he started thinking about what would happen if we got together in June - right after his glee club had won nationals. Remember the day at McKinley - when I was there to celebrate their win?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Az felt a pang of shame as he thought about that day, but if Dave noticed he didn’t show it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We went out for dinner that night - just him, Santana and I. He started talking about how sometimes the thing we want the most is right in front of us and you never see it - even if you look at the menu for hours. San and I were both really confused - finally she asked him what the hell he was talking about.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, did he tell you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could say that… He said he wished he could go back in time and punch himself in February, because he gave up the chance to be with someone great. Then he ran out of there like his ass was on fire. I didn’t hear from him for ten days, until he showed up at my house. I was in my pjs - those stupid ones with bull dogs on them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! We bought matching pairs! They are not stupid - Alicia says she loves them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right - anyways, he showed up and told me that he’d left Blaine and would I give him a chance.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kissed him like I was about to die.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s my boy!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was perfect - so unbelievably perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry it didn’t last.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were eighteen - and I was still discovering my sexuality. New York changed us.” Dave grabbed a package of chicken mcnuggets from the bag, and scowled at Az. “Okay, enough of my sob story - tell me about how you met Alicia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az smiled and nodded. He told him about the Black Students group, about that first day in Professor Morris’ class, about a forgotten pen, and about a first coffee. Then he talked about Sloppy’s diner and long talks. As he finished, a soft silence descended over them. Dave had a far away look in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az leaned over and jabbed Dave in the ribs. “Then tell me a thing! That’s the deal, right?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed softly. “I fucking hate musicals. Like before New York, I knew I didn’t like them, but now I know I hate them. And I keep having to see the damn things - Kurt and Adam drag me all the time, Rachel practically lives in Times Square trying to get cheap tickets and always makes me go with her. Every guy I meet who wants to go on a date, always thinks they make a great first date. And all I want is to go have a coffee or a beer!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet you were excited when Alicia announced she was taking us to the Color of Purple when we visit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s cool. Cause it’s you guys - but there are like a million better date options in New York!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was the best date you’ve ever gone on?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy! I took Kurt to Brooklyn Bridge Park in our second week in New York. It was just going on dusk and all the lights were going on - and fuck, man nothing is more romantic than New York City at dusk. I bought a picnic from Zabar’s - which is this really fancy grocery store. And we sat on this big blanket, looking up at the bridge - I had my head in his lap and we just talked. You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az had watched Dave’s face while he described the date - the way he looked when he talked about Kurt, it was almost with a sense of reverence. He wanted to ask about more Kurt. About Dave’s feelings and what would help him tell Kurt...but no heavy topics. Instead, he talked about his third date with Alicia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you promise not to laugh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes - we’re talking about perfect dates here, dude. There’s nothing funny about that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I took Alicia on the Long Walk - you know that stupid thing people talk about, where you walk from the Thompson Library to the Ohio seal down on College? We did the whole walk - I’d brought hot chocolate with whiskey that I pinched from mom’s and we drank while we walked. And we just talked. Did it at night too. And after, I took her to Handel’s for ice cream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good one. Kurt and pretty much every other guy I’ve dated have said that I plan amazing dates.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet in no time, you’ll be ready to plan more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just looked out the passenger window - frowning. Az instantly felt bad, he’d done the one thing they’d promised each other they wouldn’t do - he’d made it heavy. “I’m sorry Dave, I didn’t mean to make you upset.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Az. It’s hard not to do that right now - everything is a little heavy. I think I’ll need a lot of time before I'm ready to even think about dating. But maybe one day.” Dave shook his head a little, as though clearing the thoughts out of his head. “Okay - new topic…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az interrupted him, “Remember when we got our licenses and that summer you drove with me to see my dad’s grave in Arlington…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow - okay, that’s a whole different kind of heavy, Az. But yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And our parents were so mad at us because we just went and didn’t tell them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dad did that heavy breathing thing that he always does when he gets really angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And my mom screamed for hours at us. But I didn’t care - cause I got to see my dad’s grave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we had lunch in that little diner where the waitress gave us free milkshakes. And I was worried because you cried so much that I wasn’t sure you’d be able to stop.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we decided that we were each other’s family… Dave...I wish I'd been a better brother.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave ate a handful of fries, he chewed slowly. Then he picked up his milkshake and sucked hard at the straw - cheeks hollowing. Finally, he swallowed and looked at Az, “So, I talked to Kurt about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - and this is our </span>
  <em>
    <span>last</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard moment for the rest of the day, okay? After this, I expect a full conversation about comic books, or whatever...hell, if you want to talk about tits or something, I’m game. As long as I can talk about guys’ asses, cause I’m totally an ass guy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After you talked to me in April, I knew I wasn’t ready - the pain of what happened between us just felt too...there, you know? So I ignored it. I ignored your olive branch. But in August - I don’t know why I came to you. I think it was just the idea that you and I always took care of each other growing up - and I needed someone to care for me. But after everything, Kurt and I talked about why I went to you and not him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been wondering about that same question, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I’d been dating Kurt - well, none of this would’ve happened. But I do love Kurt and I respect his opinion and I think it would’ve hurt too much to ask him to care for me like that. But you - you’ve always just done that. We lost our way for a while, but I think after April, I had it in my head that you’d do it again. And I took a leap of faith - I was scared and alone and confused and I wanted the comfort that I’d felt when I had you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just nodded, fighting the tears he could feel on the edge of his emotions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az - you and I, we are best friends. We’re brothers. And...well, remember that stupid photo thing that you did back in October?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a couple years of snapshots missing from our story, but I bet going forward, there’s going to be thousands of pictures.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at Dave - and smiled. “Yeah, there will be. And one last thing before we stop being heavy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ever decide to try and tell Kurt how you feel, I’ll support you one hundred percent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave huffed a small laugh. “Not while he’s with Adam. He’s too happy - I won’t ruin that for him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Moment that changes - and if you still want it - we do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just ate a bite of his burger, with a small smile on his face. And that smile meant the world to Az. He smiled back, then deciding to get things back on track, said, “Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alicia’s has the best tits in the world.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s laughter burst out of him so hard and so loud that it ricocheted around the truck’s cab. And it was the best sound in the world - it made Az feel better than he’d felt in a really long time. God, it was good to be here with Dave - good to have this person back in his life. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. \Incomplete Snapshots - pt. 2/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“An endless task, the cataloguing of reality. We accumulate facts, we discuss them, but with every line that is written, with every statement that is made, one has the feeling of incompleteness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Franz Fanon</span>
</p><hr/><h3>
  <span>{January 2015}</span>
</h3><p>
  <span>“Licia, please. I feel fine. I’m just anxious. He said he was going to call and he hasn’t.” Az paced across the small expanse of their living room, wringing his hands. He stopped by his desk, picking up his phone, making sure that he had a signal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy,” Alicia was sitting on their couch, a textbook for her women’s studies course open on her lap, “Come over here and sit down. He said he’ll call, so he’ll call. We just need to be patient.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az grunted, grabbing his phone and throwing himself onto the couch. He put his phone on his knee and stared at it - willing it to make noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az...read a book. Go read some Fanon or Baldwin or some Langston Hughes. But you need to just calm down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if something’s gone wrong? What if the treatment isn't working? What if someone rejected him or hurt him?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we will deal with it - we can easily get to New York to help him, and he can go stay at Kurt and Adam’s if he has to. Let’s just stay positive…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of a FaceTime call blaring out of Az’s phone startled them both. Az nearly tossed the phone across the room as he tried to answer it. His thumb felt so fat and useless. Alicia calmly took the phone and answered, placing the phone upright on the coffee table. Dave’s smiling face appeared - he still had that beard and there was a black and white scarf draped around his neck - his hair was a little longer now, it also looked like he’d colored it purple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey you two! Sorry, I meant to call earlier, but it’s fucking cold, so I wanted to get somewhere warm.” They could hear the distinct sound of a Starbucks’ espresso machine somewhere in the background.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Az smiled back, a sense of relief flooding him as he saw that Dave was smiling. “What’s up - you said you needed to tell us something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yup - is now a good time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re all ears, Dave.” Alicia smiled and leaned against Az’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so...I went to the doctor’s today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Everything okay?” Az immediately flashed to his tiny pile of books on supporting friends with HIV, trying not to overreact as he mentally flipped through all the possible things that might have happened . </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, my viral loads are...uh, I’m undetectable guys.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az actually screamed as he nearly leapt off the couch, a feeling of joy filling him. They’d waited for this since August! Alicia gave a loud sob and fell back against the couch, hands covering her mouth, eyes watering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az flopped back onto the couch - his head sinking into his hands - the force of his tears was overwhelming. This was the one thing he’d been hoping to hear from Dave for months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave!” Alicia was crying, but her face was radiant. “This is amazing! I’m...what did he say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was smiling, but it was clear he was also crying - “He said that the virus was fully suppressed. My viral loads are so low, it’s like I don’t have it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave that’s… I’m so happy!” Az managed to look up from his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...yeah...it’s so surreal.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you told your dad?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I called you first - I’ll call him after and then go see Kurt and tell him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az leaned forward on the couch, “How do you feel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want the vulgar answer or the sappy answer?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia tossed her head back and laughed. “Vulgar please!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like going out this weekend and having some really hot sex!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az laughed and gave him a virtual high-five. “And the sappy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s easy, I feel…” </span>
</p><h3>
  <span>{June 2015}</span>
</h3><p>
  <span>Az watched, with growing fascination and a general feeling of nausea, as the world’s largest slice of cheesecake was placed in front of him. He glanced up at Dave, sitting across from him, who was carefully pouring ketchup over a heaping pile of fries. Dave was watching him with a quizzical look on his face. He gestured at Az’s cheesecake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you the portions were big. And you’re going to feel awful after you eat all that sugar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just shrugged and took a bite of his red velvet cheesecake. Next to him, Alicia laughed softly, “He said cheesecake was going to be the first thing he ate when we visited, and there’s no changing his mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave, taking a bite of his ruben, nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Az put his fork down - already fully regretting not ordering something besides the cheesecake, like maybe a burger and then cheesecake. “I’m sorry it took us so long to visit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az, don’t apologize - we’ve all been busy, plus with the number of times my dad makes me come back to Ohio, I feel like I should pay rent for your couch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he calmed down at all?” Alicia was slowly cutting up her tuna melt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - he’s gotten worse since I became undetectable. Now he’s totally focused on how I’ll eventually switch back. He’s desperate for me to move home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you?” Az asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m finally feeling better about things. It’s been almost a year and I’m totally at peace with it now, the disease is a part of me. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love a cure, but I won’t stop living - there’s no trace of it in my system, and I’m getting my life back. I’m fully pre-med now, I have friends, a support group I go to, I even joined a gay man’s rugby team!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re so glad, Dave!” Az reached across the table and grabbed his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks! And now I’m changing the subject! Because I really don’t want to talk about dad. So, you’re here for a week, what do you want to do? Besides, celebrating Az’s birthday on Thursday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az immediately found his cheesecake more interesting than anything else at the table, mumbling something under his breath. He knew Dave would make fun of him for this, even if Alicia told him not to be so silly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia bumped his shoulder and Dave leaned forward, “What is it Az? And I’ve already assumed it’s some nerdy academic thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sighed, he lifted his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “I want to spend a day at the Schomburg.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is the Schomburg?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s this black cultural research centre - the New York Public Library runs it. There’s some stuff there I want to look at for my Civil Rights class and for my application.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still aiming for UCLA?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has so many drafts of the damn application already written. And he hasn’t even started fourth year!” Alicia said around a mouthful of fries.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want it to be the best I can make it okay. So can I go spend a day at the Schomburg?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s already made me read it, twice! But, yeah, you go be nerdy and I’ll take Alicia shopping - maybe Andrew will come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az glanced up at Dave over his cheesecake - “Who’s Andrew?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked a bit surprised and blushed, “Oh, I - uh - I guess I forgot to tell  you. I’m dating someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia and Az exchanged a look - they’d gotten quite good at having silent conversations in the three years they’d been dating - they both looked totally confused. They knew that Dave was trying to put himself back out there, trying to be more open to meeting guys again after his diagnosis. They looked back at Dave, “Dating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, dating. Look - with what Kurt’s new job…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What new job? Dave, what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sighed and ate a fry. “Kurt and Adam are planning on moving to the UK, he got some kind of internship at Stratford or something theatre place and Adam wants to go home. So, they’re going to the UK for a while. And I realized I can’t just pine away for him or hope I’m going to be brave enough to tell him I might still have feelings for him. So, I’m going to try dating again. See what happens!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still think you should tell him.” Az took another bite of cake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look! Let’s not talk about that! Let’s focus on the fact you guys are here for a whole week and we’re going to celebrate Az turning twenty-two! Let’s just enjoy that and not worry about me and my love life - which is fine by the way!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia nodded and thumped her fork against her plate, “Agreed! Now - Andrew. Spill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a friend of one of the guys on the rugby team and he gots to CUNY, studying journalism. And he’s nice and cool about the whole undetectable thing. We’ve only been on a few dates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az leaned forward, a sense of protectiveness falling over him. “He’s good to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave rolled his eyes, “Yes </span>
  <em>
    <span>dad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s very good to me. And my chastity is still intact - he’s a perfect gentleman. I’m sure he’ll invite me to the Cotillion soon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be a dipshit. I’m just protective.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. But yes, he’s really nice and fun and I’m enjoying going on dates again. I hope you don’t mind if he comes with us on a few of our adventures this week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I tell him stupid Dave stories? I’ve never been able to do that before.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can do the same to  you, right? I could humiliate you in front of your girlfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave grinned at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az grinned right back. “She already knows I’m stupid, so do your worst.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia, clearly exasperated jumped in - obviously wanting to stop this before it got out of hand. “Okay boys! Now what do we feel like doing this afternoon? And Az, since I picked standing in line for tickets to The Color Purple, you get to pick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az thought for a moment, casting amused looks at Dave. Even though he actually really did just want to go to the Schomburg and look at their collection, he knew he couldn’t do that the entire time he was here. Instead, he decided on something a little more touristy. “Oh, uh, I feel like checking out Central Park.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First Times Square and now Central Park - thank god we’re getting the terrible tourist places out of the way on the first day!” Dave laughed as he sipped his milkshake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-/-</span>
</p><h4>
  <strong>(Three days later)</strong>
</h4><p>
  <span>“Everytime I come out here, I’m convinced I’m going to die.” Az slowly climbed up the fire escape that led to the roof of Dave’s apartment. “That fire escape cannot be safe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey - I love it up here. I have my coffee here every morning.” Dave was sitting on a lawn chair, legs stretched out in front of him, a cup of coffee clutched in his hands. “Did Alicia, Santana, Rachel and Kurt get off okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az, clutching his own cup to ward off the chill of an early New York morning, sat down in the chair next to Dave. “Yup.” He had just kissed Alicia goodbye as she went on a pampering day with Dave’s roommates and Kurt. “And thanks for setting up today - and for the party tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that you wanted a best friend date, so we’re having one. And you’re welcome - watching you dance with drag queens will be completely worth the planning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what are we doing today?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just gave him this smirk, “Do you promise not to lose your mind?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - now I don’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so, there’s this African American art museum in Brooklyn…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What!” Az nearly leapt out of his chair, his brain was already buzzing - what kind of art? Traditional African? Diasporic? Contemporary? Oh! The endless possibilities! “What kind of art? Where is it? Does it have…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus! Calm the fuck down, dude. I thought we’d go there and then maybe hit up Harlem for lunch. Maybe go to the Strand, where you can run around like the book crazy psycho you are, and then the village for dinner and drinks.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az gaped at Dave - somehow he’d planned a day doing everything Az would want to do, and he got to do it with Dave. “I love all of it! Thank you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, happy birthday, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az smiled. He felt so full and happy. All of this - this whole trip was everything he’d ever wanted. But there was something he needed to do, something that had gone unsaid for so long. So, he sucked in a deep breath. “Dave, can I ask you something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you hate it how I keep making things heavy when we hang out…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god! Are you capable of just relaxing and enjoying something? Or is this how we’re always going to be…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just that...we’ve never talked about...February. I mean, I apologized, but if you ever want to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For fuck’s sake. Azimio - you do know that every time we hang out, it doesn’t have to get heavy, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know - I just…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I like to think we talked it out enough the day I got diagnosed, Az. Whatever you think you still need forgiveness from, I’ve forgiven you. You’re my best friend - you were there when I needed you the most. Isn’t that enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stared down at his coffee, which really was not strong enough for his liking. He sighed. It felt good to be forgiven - but something still felt incomplete. “Can I just say one thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweet baby Jesus. Yes, fine, go for it.” Dave sipped at his coffee - his eyes were trained on the building across the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hated the kids at your old school, Dave. When I heard what they’d done to you - I wanted to go burn down that fucking place. I just wish I could’ve recognized what that meant.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>That seemed to get Dave’s attention, he turned his head. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it meant that I knew that the way I felt - about you and everything - was wrong. I wish I’d been more cognizant to recognize that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sighed. “God, it is so weird how you use big words all the time now. And, thank you for that. But, Az, can I give you a little piece of advice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to let go of that regret and that anger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - listen to me. You need to let it go. It’s going to hurt you - and eventually us!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just - I just feel like there’s so much I need to still regret doing - or not doing. Sometimes I think about that day, when you called, and I can’t help but think I should never be forgiven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you have been! Az, you have been. I’ve forgiven you. My dad has forgiven you! Kurt’s forgiven you. Hell, even Alicia has forgiven you - and she wasn’t even around. You just need to forgive yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, look, I’m going to tell you something and you need to not get freaked out. But it's about how I managed to let go of some massive anger I’ve been holding onto.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” Az immediately felt uncomfortable. Dave’s anger was mostly directed at himself as of late. As much as Dave was trying to reclaim his life post his diagnosis, he knew Dave still held a lot of anger over letting his guard down and getting hurt in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I saw Scott last month.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘What?” Az sat up and turned towards Dave, his face worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - we had coffee. I needed to tell him how angry I felt. But when I saw him, I realized that it wasn’t worth it. It would just end up hurting me. So we talked about treatment and how we’re doing and what support groups we’re going to. And it was good. I’ll probably never talk to him again - but at least I know that I’ve let it go. I’ve been positive for almost a year - it’s my life, I just need to let my emotions for how I got that way go. So, for god’s sake, let your regret and anger towards yourself go, Az - it’s been three years! All it will do is hurt you in the end. And possibly you and I - which, I really don’t want to happen!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded and smiled. He reached out and took Dave’s hand. He would want to talk about this meeting with Scott - that could not have been easy for Dave. But, if Dave could let that anger go - or at least start to - maybe he could try and find a way to stop hating himself for what he did. “Thank you. I want to, Dave. And I think after everything we’ve been through this past year, I’m ready to let it go. Maybe, I just needed to hear you say it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good! Now let it go. No one hates you or blames you! I love you Az. Okay, I just love you! Now finish your damn coffee so we can get this epic best friend date started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good! We both love each other! Go us! So, what do you feel like - another coffee at that place down the street and then African art or find coffee at the museum? Cause this coffee is shit. I forgot how badly Kurt makes it!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az laughed and chugged the rest of his shitty coffee. “That’s an easy one. I feel…” </span>
</p><h3>
  <span>{November 2015}</span>
</h3><p>
  <span>Holy shit, he felt anxious!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His palms were really sweaty and he was honestly finding it hard to breathe, but as long as he kept repeating what Dave had said earlier that morning, he’d be fine. This was going to go off without a single hitch! It had to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Earlier that day, while standing in Dave’s loft apartment, he’d been nervously pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Dave, leaning back against the kitchen counter, had finally reached out and grabbed his arm. “Az, stop being so stupid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not helping!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes it is. You’ve planned this down to the last detail - so, just calm down and go for it. You know what the answer is going to be!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az had sighed and nodded.  He looked up and watched as Dave popped three pills into his mouth, swallowing them down with a large gulp of water. Dave just winked at him over the glass, and that was enough to tell Az that everything would be alright. He had Dave in his corner - even if everything else went wrong, Dave would be there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, while he was in the moment of the thing happening, Az was finding it rather hard to remember just how reassuring Dave had been this morning. He was sweating far too much and worrying so much that it was probably audible by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and Alicia were walking slowly through Central Park - they’d decided to have an anniversary weekend in New York, which had been Az’s idea. Of course, there was another reason for the visit - one that he hoped Alicia had no idea about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d just come from dinner at Tavern on the Green - Dave’s suggestion - and were taking a stroll through the park, looking at the fall colours. Dusk had just fallen, and the air was cool and crisp - the trees seemed decorated just for Alicia in her favorite shade of burnt orange. As they stepped onto the Bow Bridge, he licked his lips. It was time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused in the middle of the bridge, pointing out how they could see the city lights from here and how quiet and gentle everything seemed. It felt as though they were in a different world altogether.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I think you can see Lincoln Square! We should walk over and do stupid photos in front of the fountain.” He said pointing in the direction of a building you absolutely could </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she turned away, to try and find the lights of Lincoln Square and the Metropolitan Opera, Az stepped back, moving behind her, and got down on one knee. His breath was coming in hard little gasps - he was going to do it. Exactly as he and Dave had practiced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy, you’re a damn fool liar, you can’t see it at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, big guy, it’s time to do it! And he heard Dave’s reassuring voice in his head…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>{you know what the answer will be}</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. So, uh, Alicia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Azzy?” She turned around, and when she saw him, her eyes went wide and she made this little “oh” noise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held out his hands - in one he was holding a small red box, flipped open to reveal a rather modest engagement ring. She stepped forward and clasped his empty hands in hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a huge breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“James Baldwin wrote one of my favorite things about love. He said, “Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.” And when I met  you, I was a child - foolish and ignorant of who I was or what my place in the world was. But when I met you - when I fell in love with you - I started growing up. You’ve brought me through so much, you’ve helped me so much. I love you. I love you more than I can even begin to express and I would be honored if you would agree to spend the rest of our lives together. Alicia Larenn, will you marry me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile she gave him was all the answer he would ever need. “Azzy...yes doesn’t even begin to express how badly I want that. Yes - yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands were shaking as he put a ring on her finger. Then, in the gathering dusk of a New York evening, they spent a very long time wrapped up in each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Az flopped back onto the mattress - he was breathing heavily and he could already feel the sweat cooling on his skin. He closed his eyes and sighed a very contented sigh. “That was...absolutely amazing.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia’s laugh rang out. She nestled against him, and he put his arm around her, holding her close. He could feel that she was just sweaty. She quietly said, “We need to wash these sheets - I feel bad enough that Dave is letting us sleep in his bed tonight, but these sheets are going to stink like sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was the one who told us to use the bed, but yeah we can throw them in the wash tomorrow.” He smiled, thinking of the note they’d found earlier when they arrived back at the loft: </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A&amp;A, </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! We’re celebrating at brunch tomorrow! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m at Andrew’s tonight and Rachel is with Brody - so the place is yours’. There’s sparking wine in the fridge, and we bought you some of the GOOD chocolate. Also, just use my bed tonight - fuck the sofa bed! Consider it my engagement gift! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love you,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- D</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d pretty much already finished the wine after their second go around, and the chocolate had been finished before they’d even started the third round - which they had just finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Alicia leaned up to kiss him, and traced a hand down his chest, he moaned softly at the sensation of her fingers playing with his chest hair. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, “I love you, finance.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her soft giggle sent shivers across his body. “I love you too, fiance. God, I’m so happy Azzy!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I want you to only feel good. I’m so excited! We’re getting married! There’s so much to think about! Also, we probably should call our families!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and shook her head. “No, that’s a tomorrow thing - tonight is just us.” She held up her hand, admiring her ring. “I love it so much And I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too. So, Licia, how does it feel to be engaged?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marvelous. How about you, how does it feel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just smiled and pulled her close, pressing his face into her hair, whispering, “It feels…” </span>
</p><h3>
  <strong>{March 2016}</strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>There was an icy wind blowing across the OSU campus as Az and Dave slowly walked towards the building that housed the African American Studies program. They were headed there so Az could drop off a thank you note to Professor Morris for writing him a reference letter, then they planned on having lunch and going vinyl shopping. Mostly so Dave could make fun of Az for sounding pretentious about his new found vinyl addiction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a blast of icy cold air smacked them in the face, Dave huddled even deeper into his massive parka, grumbling loudly about how much colder Ohio could get compared to New York. His new hugely muscular frame filled out the thick coat dramatically. Az had been shocked when Dave pulled off his shirt the night before - the man had muscles. He’d proudly declared himself a “muscle bear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you didn’t have to come with me! You could have stayed at the apartment - and it’s not my fault you decided to spend Spring Break with us in Ohio.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t blaming you, I was blaming myself for not going to visit Kurt and Adam in London or wherever it is they live.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stratford, dumbass - even I remember that. And you said you didn’t want to get sucked into their vortex of domestic bliss - so you’re stuck with me and Licia.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last time we FaceTimed, he and Adam made kissy noises at each other for a solid twenty minutes while I sat there and read for my stats course until Kurt remembered we were supposed to be talking. Like, I get it, you’re still super happy living together in England, but Christ enough is enough. And I love spending time with you guys - you’re my family!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re just happy, Dave. You and Andrew were like that too for a while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was less cutesy and more ‘hey, can I rip your clothes off now please…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I remember - you two really didn’t get the concept of discretion, did you? Sorry he dumped you, by the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stopped midstep, turning slowly to stare at his best friend. “Sorry?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sorry or mad he dumped me. I was until Friday, but now I’m not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just smiled, and it was the kind of smile that Az had grown quite used to - it was the smile that said he had news to share. “No spoilers. I’m planning to tell you and Alicia later at dinner.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave - come on! You were the first person I told when I got into UCLA, you’re also the first person I told when I bought Alicia’s engagement ring and when I aced my GREs...I tell you everything before I tell anyone else - even my fiance!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stopped and stomped hard on the ground, trying to force some blood circulation into his legs. He grinned and gave a shrug. “Ugh, fine. But, like...don’t go apeshit okay?” He dug his phone out, pulled his gloves off and unlocked it, before passing it to Az. “Here read.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked down at the phone, it was an email. Shit, he didn’t have his glasses on, so he made the text bigger. He heard Dave snort next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It is our pleasure to offer you acceptance into the University of California San Francisco School of Medicine…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The phone fell out of his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Dave yelled, jumping to grab his phone. “I actually did mean for you to go apeshit, but not break my phone, man!” Dave started dusting snow off his phone, shaking his head muttering about Az being a damn fool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az was just staring at him. “Dave…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Dave looked up, a massive smile forming on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just launched himself at Dave - throwing his arms around the other man and knocking them both into a huge snow bank. “YOU FUCKING DID IT!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was laughing and shoving at Az to get off of him. But all that accomplished was Az tackling him even harder and hugging him all the tighter. Both were laughing and rolling around in the snow, but Az was screaming with joy. His friend was going to be a doctor! A fucking doctor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave was saying something, or trying to at least. Finally, Az sat up in the snow, pulling Dave with him, keeping his arms locked around Dave. “What? What was that, Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said, you’re a fucking idiot! But that I couldn't have done this without you, Az. You got me to actually stick with pre-med and to really focus, especially with the MCAT. So thank you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off! I did nothing - you’re the guy that’s gonna be a doctor! You’re gonna change the world….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>{He was right about that…}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az tackled Dave again, “Oh shit! We need to celebrate…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are! We’re going for dinner at that nice place tonight…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! We need to celebrate, right fucking now! Come on…” Az scrambled to his feet, grasping Dave’s hand and helping him up. Then, he turned around and started trudging back the way they’d come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az! Your thank you note!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Na - that can fucking wait, dude! You got into the best medical school in the fucking country! So, we’re going to Short North and I’m buying you a goddamn drink! Now come on!” Az reached back and grabbed Dave’s hand and pulled him along. He stopped and looked back, “You tell your dad yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shook his head, “No, I’ll do it tomorrow when we go for dinner. I mean, I told San and Rachel - cause, you know, I had to tell someone. But you’re the first person that really counts.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az threw his arms around Dave - hugging him. “I’m so fucking proud of you! And San Francisco! LIke - fuck, that’s gay mecca!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup - see, why Andrew just doesn’t really matter anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Fuck Andrew! You’re gonna get a hot Californian boyfriend! And you’re gonna be in medical school! Fuck man!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s surreal - like really really surreal! But I did it. I’m gonna be a doctor! And then I’m going to get into immunology and work towards a cure.” Dave said this was the utmost sincerity and determination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right, man! God. This must feel so incredible!” Az picked up his pace, pulling his phone out to text Alicia to meet them - she needed to be here too!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave jogged to catch up with him - neither of them really cared about the cold anymore. He loved the way Dave’s voice sounded so joyful as he said, “Yeah, I feel…”</span>
</p><h3>
  <strong>{March 2017}</strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>Az felt insanely anxious every single time he looked over at that fucking offensive object. So, in an effort to distract himself from the world around him, he did what he always does. He read. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, that only lasted until the sound of a FaceTime call connecting drew his attention away from re-reading, for the hundredth time, the introduction to the Diaspora Studies reader. He used a receipt from the UCLA bookstore to mark his place and hurried over to the coffee table in his tiny UCLA graduate student apartment, grabbing his iPad and answering the call. He smiled widely as Dave’s bearded face filled the screen. Az took a second to take in his friend's face - Dave’s face seemed fuller, but that might just be the bushiness of his beard, his hair was longer now, but still gave the impression of a buzz cut. He was wearing a pair of glasses with dark green frames, and his new septum piercing stood out fiercely on his face. Although Az could not see much more than his neck, Dave still looked extremely muscular. He looked tired, but happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave! Thanks for calling me back!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az! No worries! I was just out with a couple friends from class, sorry it took me so long to call back! Now, what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az tried to smile, but he couldn’t - it just sort of dissolved on his face. Instantly, he could tell that Dave noticed. “What’s wrong, Az?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az picked up the iPad and walked back to the little kitchen table that doubled as a desk most days. “I got the letter.” Az tried to hide his nervousness, but it was nearly impossible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! And?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t open it...I can’t do it, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a pipe dream. I mean, who the fuck am I kidding? I’m not good enough! There’s no fucking way. I just want to throw it away so I don’t have to see the rejection.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave rolled his eyes. “Such a drama queen. Okay, so do you remember last year when I was writing the MCAT and didn’t think I’d make it into med school?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I remember.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you told me that I was the smartest motherfucker you knew, so suck it up and apply? And then I did, and I got into med school - in the best med school in the country, no less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sighed and gave Dave a pointed look, “Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...you’re the smartest motherfucker </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> know...I mean I sure as shit don’t anyone else who can talk to me about philosophy and make it interesting. So, open the damn letter, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az groaned and picked up the white envelope - it was strangely heavy. He looked back at Dave, “It’s heavy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good sign...now, open it up!” Az watched as Dave moved around his room, eventually flopping down on his bed and bracing his phone or whatever on his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az picked up a pen and slipped the edge under the flap, he was about to start opening the envelope, when Dave yelled - “Wait!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked back up, “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you seriously doing this without her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh...oh shit! “Oh shit!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus - you’ve gotten sloppy on romance since you got to LA, man. Call her in!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded and sent a call request to his fiance. Seconds later, the screen split and Alicia appeared - her face breaking out into a huge smile. “Azzy! Oh! And Dave! Hi Dave!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi baby - are you busy? I’m not interrupting important law student business, am I?” Az felt sheepish - nervous and excited and terrified. Dave just waved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m never too busy for my husband-to-be and my favorite handsome doctor-in-training. What’s up?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just held up the envelope - her face morphed into a look of complete joy. “Is that!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s scared to open it.” Dave said, amusement in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy - come on! You know you got this - I bet they loved you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever… I just wish you guys weren’t so far away right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Dave said, “if it’s bad news - I can get one of those cheap flights that go between LA and San Fran all the time. I’ll come on the weekend and we’ll go out and be stupid. You can be my wingman!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to Jack?” Alicia asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az slid the envelope away from him, hoping that Dave and Alicia would forget about him and his dilemma, and instead focus on Dave and his relationship woes. He leaned in - suddenly very interested in this conversation! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shook his head, “He freaked out - apparently he got scared every time we had sex.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Dave…” Az groaned. “I’m sorry, want me to come down there and kick his ass?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, what I want you to do is open the damn letter! And don’t worry! I’ll survive. He couldn’t understand the difference between undetectable and positive, so whatever, it’s his loss. Afterall, I am more than just my status! Plus, I have a date lined up for tomorrow - this guy is British and he works at Google! And he barely batted an eye when I told him, so that’s promising.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should tell us about him.” Az tried hard to keep this train going, but the look that both his friend and fiance gave him told him that he was not going to win this battle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy, open the damn letter!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed again and picked up the envelope. “Fine - but, if it’s bad, one of you has to UberEats me ice cream.” He slipped the pen under the flap and slit the envelope open. He was a bit taken aback at the bundle of papers that fell out. With shaking hands he picked up the letter that sat on top - fingers brushing the embossed red and white logo. He felt like he was going to throw up. There was no way he’d gotten in - he was just some stupid black kid from rural Ohio who thought he knew something about anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Read it aloud!” Dave yelled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az glared at the iPad, but nodded. When he looked at the paper, all the words seemed blurry and jumbled. He breathed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy…” Alicia said, softly. “Sweetie, whatever it says - it’s going to be okay. I promise. But you won’t know unless you read it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...okay…” He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Fuck. If this was a no, he was going to be heartbroken. He knew he had other irons in the fire, other applications and plans that he could fall back on. But this letter was the culmination of a dream he didn’t even know he had had. It was the final step in his becoming. And it was the easiest way to be with Alicia while she was in law school. Okay...here goes nothing…he adjusted his glasses and started reading,  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lost it on the first word. His voice broke and he had to put his head down for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy! Keep reading!” Alicia was almost screaming. And he could hear Dave yelling - “Az! You did it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wiped his eyes on his arm and blinked hard. Coughing, he cleared his throat, </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the doctoral program at The Department of African and African American Studies at Harvard University… </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oh my god!” He dropped the letter and stared at the iPad, “I did it! Guys! I got in!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az,” Dave was laughing and crying, “I’m so proud of you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just shook his head - he stared at the letter, eyes blinking rapidly. He’d done it. He’d gotten in - he’d gotten into his top graduate school. He - Azimio Adams, certified Ohio bred idiot - was going to be a student at Harvard University. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t stop smiling - he picked up the letter again and re-read that first paragraph. It was real, it was all real - he was going to Boston, he and Alicia were going to be together again and he was going to be a PhD student at Harvard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without realizing it, he spoke, “No attempt must be made to encase man, for it is his destiny to be set free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh for fucks’ sake, Az, do you have a Fanon quote for every possible situation?” It still sounded like Dave was crying, but when Az looked at the screen - all he could see was a wide smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he does.” Alicia was shaking her head. “He’s committed everything the guy ever wrote to memory.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up you guys! This is a big deal - I’m allowed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we’re not careful, he’ll start in on another critical reading…” Dave was pushing himself up off his bed, “I’m gonna go get a beer - if I have to sit through another ‘Let me tell you why Black Skin, White Masks is an essential book…’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You still read it, complained the whole time. But you read it!” Az mumbled as he scanned the rest of the letter - oh! He got funding!   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Licia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really proud of you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks baby. I...I can’t believe that I did it! God, I can’t wait to see you and live in the same city as you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t wait either.” She looked like she was about to say something else, then frowned. “Azzy, I’m sorry, but I need to run - I’m meeting my study group and then I have a BLM meeting. Can I call you tonight? And we can start planning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course!” Then Alicia was sending him air kisses, which he sent back in spades, until she disconnected and it was just him and Dave again. Dave was grinning at him like a fool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Am I not allowed to be cute with my fiance? You can’t make fun - best man status can be taken away you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just love watching you two together. It’s nice - you’re my favorite people.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. I’m sorry about Jack, Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please! Hoss said he could tell Jack was going to be weird about the whole undetectable thing from the start. I talked about it in my support group and I’m over it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is your redhead roomie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hoss? Oh, he’s hung up on this guy named Rex - who I don’t like.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with Rex?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a little touchy feely. Oh, I heard from Kurt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The same - he loves England. Stratford is the most amazing place in the world, he’s never leaving, he and Adam are so happy… blah blah blah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So the same as every other update, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Word for word. Sometimes, I swear he’s reading off a script.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az played with the edge of the letter for a second, thinking. Then, cautiously he said, “I still think you and Kurt should try again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s with Adam and he’s happy. He’s commuting between London, Stratford, and New York, but I think he and Adam might make Stratford their permanent home soon.” A look passed over Dave’s face that told him Dave was not entirely okay with that situation. But then he shook his head and smiled, “And I’m still finding myself, Az. I’m still growing and getting used to my new reality - it’s only been three years!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want you to be happy too!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am happy! I’m studying to be a doctor, I live in the best city in the world, I have my best friend, who’s about to become a famous academic and I have an amazing support system around me. And tomorrow, I’m going on a date with my own cute British bear who has a lot of tattoos. I’m happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about the British guy? And way to go, copying Kurt!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing nothing of the sort! His name is Ken - he’s an app developer at Google. He comes from Yorkshire, which means I have a hard time understanding him occasionally. And his upper body is probably 75% covered in tattoos. He’s muscular like me and he’s really fucking nice. We talked on the phone for six hours yesterday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I want to. I think…” Dave looked wistful for a moment. He bit his lip and then said, “I think I’m ready Az. Like really ready to meet someone and really start being in a relationship again. I thought I was with Andrew, but I wasn’t - that was why it didn’t really bother me when he left me. But I want it now. I’m tired of being alone. And I can’t keep hoping that Kurt and Adam will break up - I need to forge my own path.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want that for you too, Dave. And you’ll find it - but I’m super happy you feel ready! And if Ken hurts  you, I’ll come down there and do something…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what? Give him a paper cut with all  your books?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you! I just worry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know and I love you for it. Az - look, I don’t want to make this all weird and emotional, I want to celebrate you getting that letter. But, and I’ve said this a million times before, you are my best friend. You were there for me when I needed you the most - you saved me. And you’re still there - whether you’re in LA or Boston or wherever you end up after - you’re there. Just like you promised. And because I know I have you to fall back on, when I need you, I’m happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be so vulgar - it’s unbecoming to a future leader of African American Studies. I love you, Az. I honestly do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az started crying, he clutched his letter like it was Dave himself sitting there. And he wept. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Dave yelled. “Stop crying!” Although it was obvious from the sound of Dave’s voice that he was crying too. “I wanna celebrate with you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az nodded and wiped his eyes. “H-h-how about I come to visit next weekend? I’m supposed to just be reading for my research and methods class, and I can do that anywhere!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s do it! I’ll tell Hoss you’ll be staying with us and the three of us can go and fuck around town to celebrate Harvard! Maybe I’ll have a cute tattooed boy on my arm!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect.” Az smiled and looked back at his letter. Fuck...this was all real. He had his best friend, he had his fiance and he had his future. “I can’t believe I got in, Dave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can. Come on, you’re fucking brilliant! Does it feel weird? I know when I got my med school acceptance, I felt weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az closed his eyes and tried to understand what he felt. There was this weird vague warmth in his stomach - it was a good feeling though. He knew that underneath all that was a whole jumble of nerves that he would probably be dealing with for a while - at least until he started the PhD in the fall. But yeah..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel…”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. \Incomplete Snapshots - pt. 3/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“The mind is like an object that picks up dust. The object doesn’t know, any more than the mind does, why what clings to it clings.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- James Baldwin</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><h3>
  <strong>{August 2018} </strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>The wind was sharp as Az ran across Boston Commons. He was so exceptionally late, but he’d needed to hold extra office hours for his students today and then the fucking Red Line had been backed up. But since he wasn’t going to be back at Harvard for the next week, there was just so much to do! He just hoped they wouldn’t be too mad! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he rounded the corner on the path that would take him deeper into the park, he saw Alicia, Dave and Dave’s boyfriend, Ken, sitting on the edge of the Brewer’s Fountain. Alicia was pointing at something in the distance and talking animatedly - which meant she was either telling them about some new favorite place to eat, or about the law firm she was articling at. More than likely, it was the former. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az called out, raising his hand. He saw Dave turn, pushing his now longish blue tinted hair out of his eyes. Dave beamed at him and raised his own hand in return. Alicia started walking towards him, already opening her arms to pull him into a hug, which he gratefully stepped into. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi boo.” He said, know exactly the reaction he would get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Azzy. And don’t call me boo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m late - things were crazy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave walked up to them, clasping him on the shoulder. “You’re forgiven. But you have to buy lunch now.” Dave looked tired - he knew Dave had been sick with a flu a couple weeks ago, but this looked different than just recovering from the flu. But when they hugged, there was nothing but sheer power in Dave’s thick arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping back, Az examined Dave’s face, a sense of worry crossing tickling at his brain. “You okay, man?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup! Just tired - we had to get up early to get our flight.” Dave’s eyes shifted to the side, a clear indication that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Az filed that away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ken stepped up - he was dressed in his usual jeans, one of his endless Google t-shirts and a brown leather jacket - hints of his tattoos showing from beneath the cuffs. His short hair and beard gleaming in the August sun. He held out his hand, even though Az had hugged him a million times. “Hi Azimio.” He sounded nervous, which meant that his thick Yorkshire accent muddled Az’s name even more than usual. According to Dave, he’d practiced saying Az’s name in front of the mirror for about three hours the first time Dave had introduced them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just stepped up and hugged the man. “Hi Ken!” The man gratefully hugged back - he seemed perpetually under the impression that Az didn’t like him. Keeping an arm around Ken’s shoulder, he turned to Dave and Alicia. “So, where are we eating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia, grabbing Ken’s hand, started leading them towards her favorite cafe and bakery just on the other side of the park, excitedly pointing out as many landmarks as she could. Az smiled. How the woman could be this excited about playing tour guide, on this weekend of all weekends, he had no idea. But he followed, stepping alongside Dave, who was walking slowly behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…” Az started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gonna tell me what’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kind of just want to enjoy your wedding weekend, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you will - after you tell me what’s up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave groaned. “You’re worse than my dad… actually, no. No one is as bad as my dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can come back to that after you tell me what’s wrong.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a blip.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A blip? What does that mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I had that flu, I got tested just to be safe. And my viral load was up - it’s called a viral blip.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stopped and turned to his friend. “What? Are you okay?” He noticed that Alicia and Ken had both stopped, watching them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shrugged and scuffed his shoe. Ken broke away from Alicia, stepping behind Dave so he could hug his boyfriend. “Yeah. I got retested on Tuesday, and I’m back to undetectable. But it and the flu just made me really tired. Ken’s looked after me really well. Right, babe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ken grinned and rolled his eyes, “He’s literally the worst patient I’ve ever met - he refused to stay in bed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were supposed to say I was the model patient and you love me more than anything in the world.” Dave smacked Ken’s arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Yes! Right!” Ken blushed. “He was the perfect patient, stayed in bed at all times and I love him more than the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s better. But really, guys, I’m okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup. I promise. I’ll probably get a good sleep tonight and be fine tomorrow. But can you not tell my dad when he’s here this weekend - if he knows, I won’t get a moment’s peace. And please don’t tell Kurt - he’s worse than my dad.” Dave smiled as Ken nuzzled his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can do that. Not a word outside of us four.” Az said, smiling at how happy Dave looked in Ken’s arms. “Let’s get some food in you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They continued towards the cafe, but this time Az kept a grip on Dave’s arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, are you excited about Saturday?” Dave asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m petrified. I’ve rewritten my vows about a hundred times.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much Fanon did you quote?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My first draft, about ninety percent.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only quote him once now. He doesn’t really have much to say about love, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’ll be amazing. If you want me to read them - I’ve read everything else you written.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, this is one writing project I’m doing all on my own.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a first for everything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I have to ask, how does Ken feel about Kurt coming to the wedding?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave’s voice dropped to a harsh and slightly angry whisper, “Az - stop it. Kurt is happily engaged to Adam, and I’m head over heels in love with Ken. Please stop. Ken doesn’t care about Kurt, because Kurt and I are friends - we’ll only ever be friends.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never mentioned anything about you and Kurt getting together man, I just asked how he felt about your ex being here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave groaned. “He’s fine with it. He’s more anxious about how weird dad can get over my status - the last time we visited Lima, he nearly broke out an at-home HIV test for Ken.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s just worried about you. Although, after four years, you’d think he would’ve calmed down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had a huge fight and I had to finally sit him down and explain that he needed to chill the fuck out. It did not go well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine - but can we talk about your wedding? Or about how you’re taking Ken and I on that Samuel Adams brewery tour tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, wedding!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed softly, shaking his head. “So, in three days, you’re going to be married, how'd you feel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, he thought about sharing his wedding vows right now anyways, but in the end he just answered in the most honest way possible. “I feel ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the first lyrics of Aretha’s “Do Right Woman, Do Right Man” started, the newly married Az and Alicia slowly spun around the dancefloor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az wanted so badly to press his face into Alicia’s hair - the way he always did when they danced, but her hair was so perfect today - her long coil braided hair piled high on her head, with a rich africentric orange and brown silk scarf woven into the braids. It looked perfect, especially when paired with the huge hoop earrings she’d adorned her ears with. He really didn’t want to ruin her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His own cloud-like hair, which he’d been growing out for months now - had been carefully styled to give off the impression of it being slightly crimped. He bumped her forehead with his nose, causing her to look up at him. He pressed his lips to her’s, smiling as he whispered, “I love you, wife.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, husband.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to him on the dance floor, he could see Dave and Ken, swaying slowly. Dave was looking at them, a goofy smile on his face. They drifted a little closer towards the newly married couple, Dave’s voice was soft and quite drunk, “You guys are my favorite couple!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Alicia just blushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? And what are Adam and I? Chopped liver?” Kurt drifted towards them, his arms draped around his fiance’s neck. Dave just laughed and pressed his face into Ken’s shoulder, hiccuping quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Ken caught each other’s eyes - silently acknowledging that Dave might need a breather to help him get sobered up. Especially before Dave’s dad caught sight of his drunk son. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ken whispered something to Kurt, before directly Dave towards the tables ringing the dance floor, followed by Kurt and Adam. Az sighed in relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia looked back up at him. God she looked so beautiful tonight. “He’ll be okay. Let them look after him tonight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup - he’s not my problem tonight, I know he has people watching out for him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. So...husband… are you ready for the rest of our lives?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready for every adventure that comes our way, baby. I love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too. How do you feel - being a married man and all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just kept swaying to the music, holding Alicia close. He felt...</span>
</p><h3>
  <strong>{March 2019}</strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>Az felt like he was going crazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to scream, he wanted to tear his hair out. He felt, for the first time in nearly ten years, like getting violent and putting his fucking fist through a wall. He was filled with so much angry anxiety that he could barely sit still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sitting on their sofa, eyes constantly moving between the closed bedroom door and the pile of protest signs that leaned against the entertainment center. He was slowly rocking himself back and forth, trying so hard not to get up and race into the bedroom, to check on her again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathed slowly, trying to use his friend Fanon to calm in down - “When we revolt it’s not for a particular culture. We revolt simply because, for a variety of reasons, we can no longer breathe.” And he really couldn’t fucking breathe! He...he wanted to rage. He wanted to burn the fucking world down!  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was so angry because he was so fucking tired of the inability to breathe. Angry because his life - his whole world - had been threatened. Was being threatened. And he was useless in that. He was a thinker - he thought and he thought and he thought. And it did fuck all. What good were all these fucking thoughts and fucking ideas?! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know what to do. She was the one who always calmed him down in these kinds of situations, but today she couldn’t do a damn thing. Today he felt like this because of her. Because of what had been done to her!  Oh god! He didn’t know what to do. God...why? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pushing himself up from the sofa, he walked into their small kitchen - which was really only large enough for one person to stand in. But they always made it work - they always made everything work. They had to make it work this time too, right? They had to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picked up his phone from the kitchen counter and licked his lips. He needed help. He couldn’t do this on his own. He didn’t have the strength. He needed the only person in the world who could help. He needed the strongest person in the world. He called Dave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took three rings for someone to answer, he nearly screamed in frustration at the sound of Ken’s thick accent. “Hello?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Ken, it’s uh, Az. Is Dave there?” He’s sure that he sounded awful - he had to!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause, then Ken’s voice - but softer now, “Of course, Azimio. He just got out of the shower, I’ll get him for you. Just hold on, please.” Then there was a pause. “Azimio? Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just whimpered and sucked in a hard sob. He heard Ken make a noise of concern and then he could hear the sounds of footsteps as Ken moved from wherever to wherever in his and Dave’s apartment. He could hear the soft murmur of voices, before Dave’s voice was there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az? What’s wrong? Ken said you sounded weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az was not sure he would be able to speak. The words felt wet and murky in his throat - like they were trapped in thick mud. He worked his throat, praying he could speak. “Dave…” His voice was filled with anguish and hurt and fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az? What’s wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alicia… she went to the doctor… and then… they… Dave!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calm down. Az, I need you to calm down. What’s wrong? Just tell me slowly, okay.” He could picture Dave, probably sitting on his bed, hair still wet because he never toweled it dry, anxiously waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az tried - he sucked in a breath. He tried to organize his thoughts about the last twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours of absolute terror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She, uh, she went to the doctor yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, and what did they say?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a - uh - a mass on her breast.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I begged her not to go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To where? The doctor?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Panic and terror filling his throat. “To the Black Lives Matter protest. It was last night - she was so upset and angry and scared. I told her not to go, I said we should just take a step back...just this once! Just to make sure she was okay. But she went. She told me I was being cowardly - that cancer can’t be enough to stop the movement! Then.. they pepper sprayed her! A woman who might have cancer! And they attacked her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…was she arrested or anything?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! She’s here, she’s sleeping - they treated her at the ER. I got there just as they were washing her eyes out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Az, you didn’t go with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t. We had a huge fight, and I didn’t go. Dave...I’m scared.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long pause and the sound of Dave moving - he could hear Dave walking somewhere in the apartment. He heard Dave mutter, “Hold on.” Then the sound of typing. What on earth was going on.  He heard Dave saying something to Ken, with Ken’s voice - louder because he always talked a little louder, worried that his accent made him sound unintelligible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Dave’s voice was back - “Okay, I’m getting a flight tonight. I’ll be there tomorrow morning, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave - you don’t have…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I fucking do….what? Hold on.” Dave was gone again. Az sat there unsure of how he felt. His friend was coming. Dave was coming - he was going to be here. The immense sense of relief was overwhelming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az? Sorry, Ken’s coming too - he’ll work remotely or something. But we’re coming okay. Everything is going to be okay! I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just closed his eyes and whispered, “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <b>(24 hours later) </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Az could hear Dave and Alicia talking in the bedroom. He wanted to be in there with them, but he’d been banished to the living room - Dave had been firm on talking to Alicia alone. He sat, slightly curled up in the corner of the couch. It was a newer couch, bought with his recent research assistantship money and it was more comfortable their their old torture device. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he sat there, trying very hard to listen to what was happening in the bedroom, a large cup of tea appeared in front of his face. He looked up into Ken’s sympathetic face. “Us Brits might not be good for much, but we can make a cup of tea that’ll soothe any problem.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az took the cup and nodded his thanks, while Ken sat down on the other end of the sofa. He gestured at Az, “For a big guy, you really manage to fold yourself up nicely to sit there. If I do that, I just look like an awkwardly placed mannequin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alicia calls this my reading pose.” Az sighed and looked towards the bedroom door. “I wish I knew what they were talking about.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I imagine it’s probably medical stuff. Or about the protest. I’m right angry that happened, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t understand why she couldn’t just stay here with me that night? She was already so upset and emotional and then to put herself in danger…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get mad at Dave every time he goes to a protest - I mean, I’m all for fighting for your rights and lord knows as someone living with HIV, he has a lot to fight for - but I get mad every time. He could get hurt, he could get arrested and miss his medication...any number of things. It makes me absolutely insane when he leaves the house, and I don’t know what might happen to him. And it’s just not in my culture to do that. I spend hours imagining all kinds of horrors.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he listen to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hasn’t yet - but he’s careful and I bet Alicia is careful too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s just so vocal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So is Dave. You know, Az, I think you and I are a lot alike. You like your books and your ideas and I like my computers and technology - I want to do my protesting from behind a screen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do it in what I write. And publish.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Dave showed me that article you published, you should be really proud - it was very thought provoking. Look, may I give you some advice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay to get mad - Dave and I fight about his activism a lot, but he always knows that I’m going to be there to care for him and to listen to him at the end of the day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really love him, don’t you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would die for that man, Azimio. I would honestly die for him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel the same about ‘Licia. And what you’re saying is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just make sure she knows you’re there for her and you support her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because that’s probably all she wants, huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes…” Ken looked up as the bedroom door opened and Dave stepped out. Az stood up, once again struck by the change in Dave’s appearance. The beard was still there, but it was closely trimmed to his cheeks, although tapered so it was longer around the chin. His hair was once again longer, more like it was in high school, but he had dyed it - there were streaks of dark silver running through the brown curls. And he had added an eyebrow piercing. His t-shirt showed off his full arm tattoo, which Az supposed was Ken’s influence. And he was perhaps even more buff than before - which he’d told Az was a way to counteract the weight gain issues from the medication. He and Hoss had both made that lifestyle choice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nodded at the bedroom, “Your lady wants you.” He then talked towards the kitchen, slapping Az on the shoulder as he went past. “She’s not mad - just go in there and be you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az gripped Dave’s hand - “Thank you for coming.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is what we do - we help each other. I need you, you come. You need me, I come. Always have, always will. Now go talk to your wife.” Dave smiled as he moved into Ken’s waiting arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az put down his cup of tea and walked into the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia was lying on his side of the bed, her hands tucked under his pillow. Her bright eyes were open and watching him - they were still raw and red from the pepper spray. He smiled as he sank down onto the bed. “Scootch over? So I can lie down?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shuffled over a bit and he lay down to face her. “Hi baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Azzy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry ‘Licia. I overreacted.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry too. I should’ve listened to you - I just wanted to go out there and do something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I need to be more...okay with that. But I freaked out after what the doctor said. I just...I just love you so much and I don’t want to lose you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t. Never will. But we need to find a way to talk about these things so we don’t shut each other out and need Doctor Dave to fly across the country to talk some sense into us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was the thought that you might have cancer that made me call him… I’m not sure I’m strong enough to handle that, but he is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re stronger than you know.” She stroked his cheek. “And we’ll go to the doctor on Monday and get some tests done. And I’m sorry we fought like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am too. I just got so scared and I wanted so badly for you to just stay here - everytime I watch the news, our brothers and sisters are being attacked - I’m so tired of it, ‘Licia. I’m so tired. And the idea of you out there - when you were carrying this major weight of there maybe being something wrong… I just got so mad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I’m tired too, baby. I’m sorry I reacted like that - I shouldn’t have called you a coward, you’re no coward - you my Azzy. I love you, so much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too. Can I hold you?.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az gathered her into his arms, pressing her to his chest. She sighed as she settled against his broad chest, her hands clutching at his shirt. She whispered, “I felt so powerless when they sprayed us… it felt like we weren’t human. I hated it. I hated them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would have torn them apart if I’d been there. I promise, this will pass. It has to… we’ll get good test results and then next year… things will change.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a quote for everything, Azzy. Tell me one now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az thought for a moment. Out of habit, his brain flipped through the large storehouse of Fanon - eventually settling on his favorite Fanon poem, “I do battle for the creation / of a human world - that ism / a world of reciprocal recognition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s beautiful.” Then, she started to cry. Her cries started quietly, but slowly grew in intensity. Soon she was sobbing into his chest. He just cupped the back of her head and held her as tightly as he could. He tried to press all the love he felt for her into the hug. He tried to press all the hope and want and desire he had into the hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But hope and love were not the only thing he felt. No, he also felt...</span>
</p><h3>
  <strong>{May 2020}</strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>“Ugh! I feel so goddamn frustrated with this fucking chapter!” He grumbled as he slowly scrolled through a nearly empty word document.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az was sitting at their kitchen table with his laptop, a copy of The Hip Hop Reader and a huge file folder of printed Biggie Smalls and Tupac lyrics open in front of him. Plus a rapidly cooling cup of coffee, the rim of which he was lazily running a finger around. On the laptop, he had the first few sentences of the third chapter to his dissertation staring at him - mockingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, he typed “I. Hate. This. Fucking. Dissertation.” Then quickly deleted the words - already feeling guilty for having had the thought. He flipped through the lyrics idly - grunting in frustration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m done. Nothing’s happening!” He saved the dissertation chapter, then closed the document and opened the Harvard Library website. He started searching for any articles on Biggie Smalls he might have missed in his lit review. He knew there had to be some.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was taking a sip of coffee and reading the abstract for something about Tupac and Aaliyah when Alicia sat down in the chair across from him. He didn’t bother looking up - not quite ready to give up on the hope that this might inspire him to write chapter three. “Hi boo.” He said, absentmindedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Azzy?” In the back of his mind, he knew he should have taken notice that she didn’t correct him for using a nickname he hated, but this really did sound like a promising article. He hadn’t thought of looking into Aaliyah - maybe this meant thinking about Minaj and Megan Thee Stallion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He clicked to download the article. Huh - this really was good, this was starting to inspire something. Oh! He might even be able to align some hooks to the work of Aaliyah. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you’re working, but can you, uh, look at me please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, sorry. I found something promising!” He opened the pdf and then looked up. Alicia was staring at him with a vague look of disbelief on her face.  Her forehead creased with concern and a little fear. He frowned, “Hon? You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh - yeah...I’m okay… I don’t know, Azzy. Can you focus for a minute?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Az instantly flashed back to all the doctor’s tests, the risk of a double mastectomy, and the days waiting to find out exactly what the mass on her breast was. Even though they’d heard the words benign, it didn’t stop Az from panicking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh - well...I have something to tell you.” Her eyes were large and utterly unsure of something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He snapped shut the laptop, pushing it off to the side along with the book and folder of lyrics. She slid something across the table - it looked somewhat familiar - only, this version looked more cheerful. He picked it up and stared at it, his eyes growing huge. He looked at her, his mouth opening slowly. “Oh - well, uh...wow. Wait...what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Alicia seemed just as surprised and speechless. “Wow...is right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is what I think it is, yeah?” He continued to stare at the little purple stick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I’m, uh, I’m late. And I got freaked out since I’ve been feeling a little weird and tired, so I decided to buy a test.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And... “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s positive.” Az had come to associate those particular words with a very specific set of emotions, so this was a rather new experience for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just gaped at her. Then he stared at the pregnancy test again, “So, I guess this is happening.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you feel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He responded by flying out of his chair and pulling her into a hug, his laughter joyous and loud in the apartment. He dropped to his knees in front of her, and pressed his face into her stomach. “I feel like the luckiest guy in the world! I’m gonna be a dad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started to cry - he was going to be a dad. She folded herself off the chair, hugging him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to be the greatest dad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gazed at her for a moment, tearful eyes bright with joy, “And you’ll be the perfect mom.” He whispered before kissing her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-/- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Az.” Dave sounded distracted when he answered the zoom call - his quarantine beard was full and unmanageable and he sorely needed a haircut. “What’s up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey man! Do you have a second?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - I mean, I’m either inside all the time or at the hospital pulling twelve or fifteen hour shifts, so what else would I be doing? Actually, I’m glad you called. I wanted to talk to you about something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Alicia looked at each other with a shared look of annoyance - okay, so their news could wait. “Sure - what’s going on?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, here’s the thing - remember I told you about how Ken and I were going to go up to the Golden Gate Outlook next month?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I was going to ask him to marry me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Az could, he would shake Dave - how the man could manage to upstage their news, he would never know. But somehow… he always did it. “Dave! That’s amazing! But, why past tense?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - well...I don’t know now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Az knew he looked confused. “Dave you and Ken have been together for three years, you’re perfect for each other, and he worships the ground you walk on. Why on earth wouldn’t you want to…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kurt called me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Az was getting increasingly more and more confused. “Why does that matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s thinking of leaving Adam and he wanted to come for a visit to talk about us - because he says we feel unfinished. But since he can’t visit, we’re having a fucking zoom call to talk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia pushed Az to the side slightly, “What do you mean? Dave - there is no you and Kurt. There hasn’t been for a long time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, not for eight years. But he wants to talk about it - so, I’m going to have a conversation with him in my bedroom, while the man I’m thinking of asking to marry me is sitting in the next room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave - do you want Kurt?” Az is shocked he managed to keep the frustration out of his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I do and I don’t. He’s Kurt - like we were great together, but so much has happened since then. So much time has passed. And he lives and works in England, and I’m still in my residency.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Ken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love him. God, I love him. But it’s Kurt, I can’t deny...It’s Kurt.” Shit, Az, I’m confused.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia shook her head, “Dave - be careful. This is the kind of situation that could hurt you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I don’t… I think I've already made my decision, but I need to talk to Kurt tomorrow and just see what he says.” Dave’s eyes get this faraway look in them - like he’s traversing a whole world of concerns between himself, Kurt and Ken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave - just be careful!” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I will - okay, obviously you guys had something you wanted to tell me and I derailed you! What’s going on?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az wanted to jump straight into their news, but he’s not that kind of friend. Instead, he asked, “Are you sure, Dave? We can talk more about this whole Kurt thing if you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - I’ll talk to Kurt tomorrow and then Ken and I will talk. But for now, tell me your thing. Cheer me up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, well… here hold on.” Az picked up the pregnancy test and held it up to the camera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave squinted at the screen, looking confused for a second. He turned away and put his glasses on, then looked back at the screen - in an instant his entire face blossomed into a huge smile. “Is that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Alicia’s faces mirrored his. “Yeah… Alicia’s pregnant!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave screamed and threw his laptop onto the floor. “Oh fuck!” They heard the sound of pounding feet and then Ken’s voice - “Dave!? What’s happened? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes yes!!! Come here!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The computer was picked up and swung back up until Dave and Ken were on the screen - Dave crying and Ken looking very confused. “Say it again! Let Ken hear!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Ken So, Alicia’s pregnant! We’re having a baby!”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ken screamed, throwing his hands up and almost knocking the computer onto the floor for a second time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Alicia were laughing - holding hands on their couch in Boston - while watching their two best friends breakdown crying in San Francisco. Dave wiped his eyes furiously and pointed at the camera - “Fuck, you’re going to be an amazing dad, Az! I’m so happy!” Dave had accidentally pivoted the camera so Ken was barely in the frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az was laughing, he could feel tears at the corner of his eyes again. “I can’t believe it, Dave! I can’t believe it!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you guys feel!?” Ken was jostling Dave to turn the camera back towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az and Alicia looked at each other - the surprise of the test results had completely floored them. Neither of them had really planned on starting a family until Az had started his first academic job in two years, but they weren’t about to say that they felt this was the wrong time or anything. In fact, they felt...</span>
</p><h3>
  <strong>{February 2021}</strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>He felt so peaceful right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia slept. The hospital room was quiet, almost completely silent except for the gentle squeak of a rocking chair as it tilted back and forth on the harsh linoleum floor. Az was sitting in the rocking chair, carefully holding his newborn daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared down at the tiny chocolate brown face - the little mouth that seemed to be constantly working, as if she already wanted to start talking as soon as possible. One of her little hands was poking out from under the soft blankets and kept reaching out towards him - fingers grasping. He carefully maneuvered his hand, so he could slip a finger into her grasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed softly as her hand closed around his thick finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so beautiful Maya.” He rocked her gently and whispered the first thing that came to mind - "Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope." He smiled at the thought of Maya Angelou blessing her namesake - his daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over at the sleeping form of his wife and a swelling of pride filled him. He looked back at his daughter, “Your mommy’s sleeping, little one, she’s very tired. But so are you - you should sleep too. I can’t wait to show you the world beautiful - it’s getting better. I think it was waiting to get better for you to come around.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned down and pressed his lips to her little head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the room’s door open and looked up, expecting to see the nurse ready to take Maya or to wake ‘Licia for another feeding. Instead, Dave’s large form filled the doorway. He smiled. “You came.” His voice was hushed, he didn’t want to wake either Alicia or Maya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry - I had a hell of a time getting a flight and then I had a layover in New York. I almost rented a car and drove.” Dave answered, his voice just as low and hushed. He looked slightly wild - his hair was short, but stylish, it had recently been re-dyed a rich silver. His beard was full and dark on his face. He was wearing a jean jacket with pride flag patches, a pink and yellow floral button up shirt and brown slacks. He looked large and strong - his muscles straining at the denim jacket. He looked tired and there was a small smudge on his glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter, you’re here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I missed it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t have been able to be in the room anyways, but you’re here now. Come meet your niece and goddaughter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave walked over and knelt next to the chair. Az leaned forward and slipped the sleeping budle into Dave’s arms. Dave carefully positioned himself so his pose mimicked Az’s - gently cradling Maya in his arms.  He stared down at her - his face was bewildered. He had tears running down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus… wow...she’s perfect Az.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like you to meet Maya Davina Adams-Larenn.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked up - surprised. “Davina?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means beloved - which is my favorite Toni Morrison book, but it’s also so she can carry a little piece of the strongest person I know around with her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s already on the birth certificate. No take backs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looked back at the tiny baby. “Hello Maya Davina, I’m your uncle Dave. I promise you’ll only know love - you’ve been born into a good family.” He looked back up at Az, eyes bright, “Thank you Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just smiled and shut his eyes, listening to Dave whisper quietly to his daughter. “I’m glad you came.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I considered hitchhiking if I couldn’t get a flight, but got talked out of that.” He heard Dave get up slowly, movinh to the other rocking chair in the room. He’d been confused about why there were two of them - until someone told him this was usually the twins birthing room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he here too?” Az asked, hoping Dave’s boyfriend would in fact be here - for the extra pair of hands, if nothing else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he couldn’t get away. He’ll be here on the weekend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you mind sitting with her while I slept for a little while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’ll be right here, Az. I’m not going anywhere. Go get some sleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az thinks he nodded, but he really wasn’t all that sure that he moved at all. He just felt himself falling into the sweet blackness of sleep. He could hear Dave softly singing to Maya - the sound was so gentle and lulling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God...good god. He was a father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt…</span>
</p><h3>
  <strong>{November 2021}</strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>Az moved around the apartment, swaying to the sound of a song that only he could hear. He hummed, quietly, all in the hopes that his sleeping nine month old daughter would stay asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maya was swathed in a sling that was tied across his bare chest, with her head resting gently against his right pec - her tiny breaths causing his chest hair to tickle and skin to gooseflesh. But he didn’t really care - she was asleep, which was a bit of a rarity these days. He was just so desperate for her to stay that way. He often craved the quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bounced into the tiny spare bedroom they’d set up as his office, so he could work on his dissertation in peace once in a while. If anyone ever said that writing a fucking book while caring for a relatively newborn baby would be easy - those people were fucking lying. Lying fucking assholes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d written his last chapter and conclusion over the course of two months - usually between the hours of three a.m. and six a.m., when Maya would wake up for the day. And that would mean that he’d have to switch gears from super academic to super dad for the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their daily schedule was pretty consistent. Wake up, giggly playtime, then a diaper change, breakfast (mostly coffee for him), a new outfit for Maya and the same old ragged sweats or jeans and endless rotation of t-shirts for him. Then, while she played in her playpen or sat in her bouncer, he would read and get ready for the next bout of writing that night. Then lunch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After lunch, they’d usually go out for a nice long walk through the park nearby or to pick up groceries. Then, they’d both nap for a great deal of the afternoon. And Maya loved nap time with dad - sometimes she got to sleep in the bed with him, but mostly he put her in the crib they had in their bedroom. Then he’d fall into bed and sleep until Alicia came home, waking up enough to give her a kiss hello, before falling back to sleep for another couple of hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Get up - dinner - spend some time with his wife and daughter - bedtime for Maya and a little private time for mommy and daddy. And then he’d find himself back at his insanely messy desk until the sun came up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a schedule that, as Dave adamantly pointed out, was utterly insane. But it worked. Worked well enough that Az could now put his hand on the very real and beautiful first fully completed draft of his dissertation: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stereotypes of a black male misunderstood”: The intersections of exploring black racial identity within hip-hop culture and black visual culture. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>By Azimio Adams-Larenn</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A Dissertation submitted to the African and African American Studies Department at Harvard University </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for a Doctorate Degree</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holy fucking shit! He’d done it. He’d written the damn thing! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed contentedly as he swayed back and forth in front of the very decent stack of pages that were all his. All his words and all his ideas and all his hard work. And tomorrow he was meeting with his advisor to talk about what needed revising before his final submission. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing down at the little head of his sleeping little girl, he pressed his lips to her scalp. “And I’d burn every single word if you asked me to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the living room, he heard the sound of a FaceTime call coming in. “Ah! That’s your uncle Davey! Let’s go, but please stay asleep.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swayed back into the living room, picking up his ipad and propping it up on the coffee table, before tapping to answer the call. As Dave’s face appeared on the screen, Az slipped his wireless headphones on - ensuring that Dave’s voice didn’t wake Maya. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey man!” He kept his voice as hushed as possible. “How’s it going.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave just shook his head, eyes tearful and sad. Well shit! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened Dave?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not ready to move back. And he asked if I’d consider looking into switching residencies to the UK.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - I can’t. If it were any other residency, yes. But I just started at UNSF’s HIV research centre - I’m not switching. I love him - god, Az, do I love him. But...I can’t give this up just because it’s Kurt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he understand that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - he told me he’d be royally pissed at me if I said yes to him. Told me that he’d dump me hard and fast before he’d ever let me give this up - the work is too important. He said that maybe someday, but working towards a cure is so much more important than he and I.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you believe that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today I do. It’s tomorrow and all the long hard days of work after that I’m worried about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. But you said so yourself, Dave… a cure’s out there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave closed his eyes and ran his hand down his tired face. “I have to believe that - I have to believe that in the next ten years… that I’ll be cured.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I think Kurt is giving you the chance to find a way to do that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - yeah, that’s what we said. It just hurts, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. What are you going to do now, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He flies back home tomorrow - I’m probably going to let him stay here. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. Then I’ll go to work on Monday and continue treating patients and after that, Hoss and I will go have dinner. And I’ll just keep living my life - I can’t believe this is happening again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you tried, Dave. You tried, and you would’ve lived the rest of your life hating yourself if you hadn’t tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would have. When he asked me to… try again. I felt so awful because of what I was doing to Ken, but he understood. Fuck…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you talked to him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. We agreed not to talk, so it’s been almost a year. Hoss told me that he was dating someone. Maybe I’ll call to apologize one day.” Dave sat there, he was staring at the camera but his eyes looked a little glazed over. He had changed so much - his hair was longish on top, but both sides were shaved in a way that the transition from short to long was perfectly done. He still had his beard - but it had a few grey hairs running through it. And all his piercings were on prominent display. He looked like this strange amalgamation of professional doctor Dave and the lost man who had been searching for the past eight years to find himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Az watched as Dave’s eyes seemed to regain focus, “Hey Az?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for encouraging me to try with Kurt - you kept your promise, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Years ago - on Thanksgiving, you promised to help me if I ever wanted to try with Kurt again. You never once told me I was being foolish - you just supported me when I decided to try.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll always support you. But I will say, I think you’re making the right choice. A cure is more important than any relationship. One day, you’re going to be HIV Negative again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think so, Az? I think I need you to tell me that - cause right now, I’m finding it hard to think so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe that. I believe that with my whole heart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. Hey, man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah man?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I see my niece?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure! Then can I tell you about how I’m meeting my advisor tomorrow? First revisions!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling, Az looked down at his sleeping daughter - she’d been asleep for about four hours now, so he figured that she could use a little awake time now, plus it was Dave asking. He nodded and slowly started to unbundle the sling from across his chest - pulling a slowly awakening Maya free. Her little eyes fluttered open and she stared at him for a second before breaking into a huge grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey babydoll.” Az said and bounced her slightly. He disconnected his headphones and dropped them onto the couch - where Maya was sure to find them later. Then he pivoted her around to face the screen. “Look, sweetie, it’s uncle Davey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She squealed in delight as Dave yelled hello and made a huge raspberry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, Az thought, would someone just give this guy a kid already - Dave was born to be a dad. Then he sat back and watched as Dave managed to make Maya’s favorite book appear. Well, there were worse things to spend his afternoon than listening to a story about Tango and his two dads. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was feeling pretty good - he had a completed dissertation on his desk and a warm and snuggly baby in his arms, and his bed friend reading aloud to them both. And yeah, Dave might be hurting - again. But it was a different hurt. It was an okay hurt. It was the hurt of self sacrifice - the hurt that would lead him to something bigger than anything else in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az sighed - slightly wishing he had a cup of coffee right now - but otherwise, he felt...</span>
</p><h3>
  <strong>{June 2022}</strong>
</h3><p>
  <span>“I feel ridiculous! And I look ridiculous!” Az stood in the middle of the first floor men’s room at Harvard Hall, draped in his doctoral graduation robes. He was pouting slightly as he stared at himself in the mirror. “Why can’t we just do this in my suit? It’s a nice suit - it’s that sexy blue suit that we bought last month for my interview.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t! You look like a wizard - like in that book I read Maya last night.” Dave gripped  Az’s shoulders, turning him so they were face to face, he reached out and adjusted Az’s robes. “And we're not doing this in just your suit! No matter how sexy you look in it. Az, you just graduated from Harvard University with your doctorate - we’re taking photos in your crazy wizard robes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az tried to look grumpy, but his face kept softening as he took in his huge flowing red robes, the way his sleeves hung down and the strange floppy hat that made his head look huge. He did genuinely hate this get up, but he’d done it. He was a doctor. He’d achieved one of his biggest dreams. This was probably one of the best moments of his life.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at Dave in the mirror, “My daughter does love it when uncle Davey reads to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s because I do funny voices. You know, this shade of red does wonders for your eyes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you.” Az laughed. “Don’t be an ass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t a soon to be Professor of African American Studies at Berkeley supposed to be less vulgar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can take the jock out of rural Ohio, but you can’t take rural Ohio out of the jock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said it brother!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe this is all happening Dave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can - you’re the smartest guy I know. I’m so proud of you.” Dave reached down and picked up the large red envelope, opening it and smiling as he pulled out the degree. “You’re a doctor, Az.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are you! Doctor Karofsky, big time immunologist at the UCSF HIV Center!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still a resident. I have a few more years till I can call myself an immunologist. But I’m on my way and I have the promise of a job at the center.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who cares - you’re a doctor to me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still an idiot, just a very educated one! And you’re going to be molding the minds of our youth, which still scares me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! They’re going to be wowed by that old fashioned Azimio Adams charm!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed, shaking his head, “There’s my cocky best friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love it and you love me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I do. How’s my hair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked at Dave - his hair appeared to be completely normal, no dyes or washes or anything, just his natural brown curls, cut short. “Normal - which is rare for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave, I’ve never met someone who changes their hair as much as you have in the last eight years. You’ve gone from all the hair to no hair to a whole crayon box of colors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...the silver hair was my favorite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mine too - you were a real silver fox.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave chuckled. “Guess, I’ve been trying out different things to suit whoever the fuck I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you found him yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - one day, maybe. Hey, at least I took out the piercings for photos.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because Ken made you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s such a proper boy, for someone with that many tattoos. But I love him for it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is.” Az leaned against the sink, slightly amused that they were just hanging out in a bathroom at Harvard like it was no big deal, while he was dressed like some kind of fancy gay pirate. “Hey, can we do something later?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave smiled, as he smoothed his hair down, careful not to disturb the part Az knew he’d worked very hard to achieve earlier that morning. “Yeah, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to get smashed. You and I have never gotten like falling down drunk before, and I want to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave gave him a questioning look, clearly surprised that his straight laced friend would ask for that, “Yeah, if you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we were teenagers, we always talked about drunken college parties and thanks to me being an asshole, we never got to do it - then I went and became all hard core academic and you had…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A million personal problems?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I prefer to call it, shit that happened to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good. I’m gonna tell my therapist that next week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyways, so we never did get to be stupid drunks, so, I want to do it. I want to get wrecked tonight. Consider it my graduation gift.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed and readjusted his glasses, “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have bothered with the expensive Coach leather bag!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t take that back, I’m going to look awesome with that my first day teaching at Berkeley.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed softly and nodded. “Okay, after we appease your mom and my dad with dinner, let’s go pretend we’re twenty-one all over again and get into so much trouble our spouses will hate us in the morning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome - maybe mom can babysit and all four of us can go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, Ken is an amazing drunk. You’ve never seen someone really drink until you see a British guy for Yorkshire drink. I’m sure we can get my dad and Sandra to babysit too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your dad seems calmer these days too.” Az knew he was procrastinating from having to go take photos, but he didn’t care. He liked talking to Dave, so he was going to keep doing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shrugged, “I think it’s the fact I’m finally settling down with someone. He sees that I’m stable and happy. Asking Ken to marry me made him realize that I wasn’t just sleeping with anyone that had a pulse, which I haven’t done in a really long time. He’s always been convinced I was just going to regress and get sicker.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which is bullshit. You are almost militant about your treatment.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave fiddled with his suit jacket, “Yeah, but dad is always going to be dad. That’s just how he is. But it’s better now. He calmed down a bit when I first met Ken, but then he got bad again during...you know.” Dave made a vague waving motion with his hand, clearly referring to the last year and a half of his love life. “But he’s calmed down. And we both know I’ve dealt with worse ” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and I hate to ask, but have you heard from Kurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re totally stalling, I see right through you, Azimio! And no, I haven’t. We made our choices - we tried but it wasn't in the cards this time. I couldn’t give up being a doctor at the UCSF HIV center and move to England for him and he wasn’t willing to wait for me or give up Stratford and London to move back to the US for me. We were just at different times and places in our lives. We both made peace with that, Az. I still love him and he still loves me - but it just wasn’t right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And is Ken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Ken, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Ken right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I love him a lot.” Dave said quietly, but Az saw the slight shadow that seemed to fall over his face as he said it. Which told him that while Dave might love Ken more than anything, and while Ken might be Dave’s future, Dave still hurt over Kurt’s decision eight months ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az stepped forward, gripping Dave’s shoulder. “Hey - at least you tried, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That we did - I still can’t believe Ken took me back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az just smiled, “It's a miracle to realize that somebody loves you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“More Fanon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s Baldwin. Ken loves you, Dave. That’s why he let you be with Kurt again - I think he knew you were always going to come back to him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same with Adam taking back Kurt, I suppose. Still...I’m glad we tried.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bathroom door swung open as Alicia Adams-Larenn, wearing a knee length burnt orange dress that hugged every perfect curve of her body, stepped into the room. “What are you two doing in here? Your mom is dying to take a million photos out there!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey baby! Sorry, I wanted to be presentable for photos - Dave was helping. Where’s Maya?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave’s lifesaver of a fiancé has her - he’s going to steal our daughter one of these days. And honestly, I’m just happy to get away from my one year old daughter for a minute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, join the bathroom party.” Dave smiled as he adjusted his tie and glasses, quickly wiping his eyes - which Az absolutely noticed. “We’re talking about how crazy today feels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alicia moved to slip her arms around Az, hugging him tightly. “It’s the fifth best day of my life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az pressed his face to her hair, “What were the others?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meeting you - that’s the first. Marrying you - the second. And then Maya’s birth. And getting my law degree.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… yeah, I like that.” Az smiled. “I have a few other favorite days - but this is high on the list.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Name one.” Dave turned back from the mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy - the day I got you back as a friend. It was an all around horrible day. And I know it probably stands out for you for far less pleasant reasons, but it’s important to me because I got my best friend back.” Az went back to kissing his wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave stood there, nodding, as he watched Az and Alicia hold each other. He looked down at the floor, as though thinking very hard. He had tears in his eyes when he looked back up. When he spoke, his voice was soft and moist, “What matters is not to know the world but to change it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az’s head snapped up, breaking out of a kiss, a look of surprise on his face. “Dave! Did you just quote Fanon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I did read your dissertation, twice, and there’s a lot of Fanon in there. But that’s not from your dissertation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? I mean - I’m excited you remembered it, but why Fanon? Why now? And was this from one of my boring lectures you two complain about all the time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. You told me that the day after… after I tested positive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Did I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Az - I’ve thought about that quote every single day since - that quote reminds me of you. The world is a fucking scary place - especially when you’ve been told you have a potentially terminal disease. But… it didn’t have to be. Az, because of you, I took my medication every day for the past eight years. Because of you, I applied to medical school. Because of you I finally was willing to open myself up to a lot of things - I took risks, some good and some rather crazy, as my little adventure to England would attest. Because of you, I was willing to open myself up to a relationship with Ken. Because of your support and what you told me that day - how you helped me that day - I kept going. Every single day, Az, you inspired me to keep trying to change my world. Because… because I didn’t just want to know the world was scary, I wanted to change the motherfucking world.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lemme finish okay! Az - you brought me back. That day, you were right there, you never wavered or panicked. Not once. You saved my life. If you hadn’t been there… who knows what I would’ve done. But you were just there and you’ve been there every single day since. Every time I start to lose my way - or when I stumble or when I hurt too much to function, you’re just right there. You told me the day I got my diagnosis what I was going to do - I don’t know if you remember that. But you told me that I was going to take my medication, see my therapist, go to medical school...that I was going to live my life. Az, I did all those things because of you! You got me to do that. You saved my life! And you helped me find the strength to live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave...I…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes, I wonder what would’ve happened if that test had been negative. I sometimes think about where we’d be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope we’d still be friends.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah - maybe. But I don’t think we’d be close. I think we’d be the kind of friends who only send each other Christmas cards or something. But that day… something changed between us. Back then, I was only thinking about medical school because I didn’t really care or know what I wanted. I was so unsure of my future. I was lost in this sea of sex and drinking and just discovering what it meant to be gay  - I was a stupid kid. But that day, and every day that followed, you helped me feel inspired to change. Az - you changed your world when you went to PFLAG and decided to be a better person. And as much as you won’t admit it, I know you started that because of me. I’m so proud of you - not just for today, or for that day eight years ago, but for everything you’ve done since high school. Especially helping me to change my life too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az lost the battle he was trying to wage, and he let the tears fall. And as Dave enveloped him in a massive hug, he knew that he’d done it. He’d achieved everything he’d wanted. Dave’s voice had become a whisper now, and Az buried his face into Dave’s neck, “So...thank you Az. Thank you for that day eight years ago. Thank you for making sure I lived.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-/-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Az laughed as his Maya grabbed a fistful of his soft velvet hat and yanked the fabric down over his eyes. Her giggles were intoxicating and he loved giggling along with her. He tossed her up in the air - she screamed in laughter. When she landed heavily in his arms again, he clutched her to his chest, swirling them both in a wide circle. He could spend forever like this - just wrapped up in his daughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey you two!” Dave said, as he walked up to them, Ken at his side, holding Dave’s hand tightly. “You’re needed for some photos, man - apparently you and I are up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az lifted Maya back up, so they were at eye level. “You want to go to Uncle Ken, baby doll?” The little girl screamed with excitement. Az held her out, so Ken could wrap his large arms around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He beamed and gave her a small toss into the air. “Come on luv! Let’s go chase some of those birds over there.” He leaned in and kissed Dave, whispering “I love you”. Smiling when Dave whispered it back. He then helped Maya waddle over to a small gathering of pigeons, so she could try and grab one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked at Dave, “Her dress is going to be destroyed by the time we’re done.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then don’t give her to a man who takes great joy in chasing birds with a one year old. I swear he gets more enjoyment out of it than she does - Alicia is right, we’re going to need to adopt a kid like the day after we’re married. Now, come on, the Johnston Gate awaits.” Dave grabbed Az’s arm and led him back to the towering red brick and wrought iron gate, where his mom, Mr. K., Sandra and Alicia were waiting. He noticed Ken and Maya following behind - she was playing Ken’s head like a drum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom pointed at the gate as they walked up, “You two! Go! I want a photo of you and Dave!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave!” Mr. K. shouted, “You need to fix your tie.” Az watched as Dave turned towards his dad so the older man could carefully adjust his tie. Mr. K. gripped Dave’s shoulders tightly, whispering something and pulling him in for a hug, before sending him back towards the gate. As Dave turned around to face Az, he rolled his eyes, smirking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave Dave a knowing smile once Dave stepped up next to him, both turning towards the camera. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything cool?” Az asked around his smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s being weird again. Said I look sweaty and tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have been walking around the Yard for like two hours, everyone is sweaty and tired.” Az watched as Ken passed Maya over to Alicia, who hugged her daughter fiercely. Mr. K walked over to Ken and put an arm protectively around the Brit’s shoulder - hugging him. Ken said something to Mr. K. and the older man visibly relaxed. “Ken really handles your dad well, huh?” Az broke out of the pose and turned towards his friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ken is like the dad whisperer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smile! Both of you! You’re worse than seven year olds having their photo taken!” Az’s mom yelled, exasperated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az looked at Dave and stuck his tongue out, “Behave dorkface.” Which caused Dave to start laughing, and then Az also started to laugh - suddenly they were gripping each other tightly, trying not to collapse onto the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shoved Az, grinning. “Stop laughing!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You started it!, dorkface!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave threw his arms around Az, hugging him and pivoting them towards the camera. “I love you, dofus!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Az would later see the photo of the two of them, mid-laugh, with smiles so big and bright that they seemed to eclipse everything else in the photo. A photo of him - on one of the greatest days of his life - standing next to the strongest guy in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That photo would live on his desk, right next to a picture of Maya, and every time he looked at it, he felt complete. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. \After/</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I have seen the worst of humanity and I have seen the best of humanity. And through it all, I know that it is not the color of my skin that defines me, but my capacity for love.”</p><p>-Azimio Adams-Larenn</p><hr/><p>
  <em> “Dave! We’re gonna be friends forever - but only if you let me read Spiderman first!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dave laughed, collapsing on his bed, and tossed a copy of the latest Spiderman comic at Az, who caught it one handed. “Read it! But don’t tell me what happens! I want to be surprised!”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Okay! Does this mean we’ll be friends forever?” </em>
</p><p><em> “Duh! I bet when we grow up, we’re gonna live next to each other and still hang out every day!” </em> </p><p> </p><h3>
  <strong>{2030}</strong>
</h3><p>Dr. Azimio Adams-Larenn walked into the kitchen of his modest San Francisco house, the late afternoon sun streaming through the large picture windows that overlooked his rather small backyard. He frowned as he looked out the window, the grass was getting way too long, which meant he was going to have to drag the mower out there this weekend. He sighed in frustration.</p><p>Dropping his book onto the counter, he opened the cupboard just next to the sink to pull out his favorite Harvard mug. As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he entertained the idea of trying to convince his nine year old daughter to do the mowing for him. But he could barely convince her to clean her room, much less take control of a heavy piece of machinery. Plus, she’d just give him that patented look of hers that said, ‘you might be intelligent, dad, but I’m still smarter than you’.</p><p>So, he’d have to do it himself, and slowly sweat to death while dragging the damn mower across the yard. But for now, he’d put it out of his head, as he intended to enjoy what was left of his Friday. </p><p>It was quiet in the house, which was not uncommon for a Friday afternoon. He loved Fridays - it was the day he reserved just for research and writing. There were no classes to teach, no student office hours to endure, no grad students begging for attention and no administrative meetings. It was just him, his books, his laptop, endless cups of coffee, and his thoughts. Although, his doctor had started warning him about the amount of coffee drank - a sentiment that both Alicia and Dave echoed quite ardently. </p><p>And lately, Fridays had been reserved for exploring the topic for his next book on black visual culture in the era of Trump’s presidency. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with it, but his last journal article on the subject had been well enough received to warrant at least thinking about it as a book.  </p><p>Today, however, he had other things on his mind than racism, BLM protests, Beyonce, and that rather hateful period of American history. No, today he was preoccupied by thoughts of his daughter, who was on a day off from school and should be quietly reading in the living room. As well as thoughts of his two houseguests - one of whom he hoped was sleeping, the other should be relaxing with Maya in the living room.</p><p>He entertained popping his head into the living room, just to check, but knew he’d just be glared at. Of course, he could also go in and join them, but then Maya would accuse him of monitoring her to make sure she was doing her work - which would probably be true.</p><p>Instead, he carried his book and coffee to the kitchen table and settled in, flipping open the book to a favourite chapter. Even after all these years, he still always enjoyed the days when he decided to read Black Skin, White Masks. He ran his fingers over the soft, slightly tattered and stained, pages of the book - it was still the same copy he’d bought all those years ago at the OSU bookstore on his first day in freshman year. This copy seemed to breathe and pulse with almost twenty years of memories and ideas. He wasn’t sure why he’d felt compelled to read Fanon this afternoon, but the urge had been there all day. So, he’d finally given in. </p><p>Opening it - reading those first few words - “The explosion will not happen today. It is too soon or too late.” - always felt like sitting down to coffee with a very good friend. </p><p>Just before he dove into the chapter on race and language, he glanced at the clock - four-fifteen. He probably had enough time to read one chapter before starting dinner. He really wanted it ready for when Alicia got home, who was feeling exceptionally tired these days, exactly as she had been with Maya. He momentarily had a flash of worry as he thought of his wife, heading to her obstetrician for another first trimester check up. But they’d agreed she’d go alone today - he had people here who needed him.</p><p>Perhaps, he considered, he might be able to get the one houseguest capable of helping with dinner, to do so. But he knew, there was probably very little chance of that - no, his guest needed to rest and recover. And honestly, he preferred doing it on his own - he liked playing host. He planned on making that cheesy chicken pasta thing that Maya loved - earning him a few dad points. </p><p>But first - Fanon. </p><p>He was sipping on his coffee and ruminating on the power of Creole languages when movement in the kitchen doorway caught his attention. He turned to see Dave, wrapped in a massive brown housecoat, standing there, with his own book tucked into the crook of his arm. Az shut his Fanon, took off his glasses, and turned to his friend - worry written on his face. Dave looked drawn and tired - utterly worn out. His bearded face was without that usual brightness that Az was so used to seeing. Even his short newly dyed silver hair looked lifeless today. </p><p>Az frowned, Dave was supposed to be lying down. “I thought you were resting with Maya?”</p><p>“I was, but I thought I heard Jake wake up, so I went to check.”</p><p>Az’s face softened at the mention of his three year old nephew - Jake Azmio. “You should have told me, you’re supposed to be resting.” </p><p>“I’m perfectly capable of checking on my son, Az. I needed to stretch my legs a little anyways.”</p><p>“Never said you weren’t. I just said that you’re supposed to be resting and letting us take care of Jake while you recover.”</p><p>“I am. Name one thing you’ve allowed me to do?”</p><p>“I let you shower and make Jake his lunch today.” </p><p>“No you didn’t! I started cutting his grapes up and you yelled at me and made me sit down.” </p><p>“Fine, I let you shower.” Az grinned. “Is Maya reading?” </p><p>No, she’s playing on her iPad. Something about some new doll or whatever. I got too tired to pay attention.”</p><p>Az looked in the direction of the living room, scowling. “She’s supposed to be reading - just because it’s a pro-d day, doesn’t mean she can neglect her school work.” </p><p>“Technically school ended an hour ago, which she happily informed me when I reminded her that she was supposed to be reading. And I’m too tired to make her do anything she didn’t want to do.” Dave shuffled over to the counter, getting himself a mug out and pouring a cup of coffee before moving to sit at the table. He turned his face into the sun coming through the windows, closing his eyes and smiling. He sighed deeply. </p><p>Az reached out and lay his hand over Dave’s. “How do you feel?”</p><p>“Weird. Good. Bad. Tired. Mostly tired, but I guess I feel a lot of things. I knew it was going to be hard - all the testimonials from the trials said so, but I never expected it to be this hard. I’ve been undetectable for so long...so letting the virus run rampant in my body has been a shock. But it was necessary.” </p><p>“And...it’s gone, right?”</p><p>“Yes - almost at least. My viral counts are...nonexistent, but my body is rather ravaged from coming off the meds, having the virus go out of control and then dealing with the stress of the treatment. But for it to work, I had to have active high viral counts to destroy the virus. And...it worked. I’m finally HIV negative again.” </p><p>It would be a very very long time before Az got tired of hearing those words. “I’m so fucking happy, Dave!” </p><p>“Me too. But I’m also so tired. All I want to do is sleep - I’m sorry I fell asleep at dinner last night. Thanks for taking care of Jake.  And this is shit coffee, by the way.” </p><p>“Well, next time you can make it. And you’re welcome. Now, go take a nap! If Jake wakes up Maya and I can look after him!”  </p><p>Dave nodded, then ignoring Az’s suggestion said, “Someone needs to teach you how to make proper coffee that won’t burn your face off.”</p><p>Az sighed, trying not to get annoyed at Dave’s stubbornness. “I’ve made coffee this way since my Master’s - never going to change.” </p><p>Dave took a long drink, smiling around the rim of the cup. “By the time we leave, I’ll probably love it. And seriously, man, thank you for letting us stay here while I deal with this.” </p><p>“Where else are you going to go? Hoss and Cobb’s? Those two would drive you mad - nah, you stay here with us. At least until that husband of yours gets back.” </p><p>“It did suck he had to go away right in the middle of me getting the treatment. I miss him. At least we talk every night - even with him being in London and then Leeds.”</p><p>“He would have stayed - he wanted to. I’ve never seen a man cry that hard before getting on a plane.” </p><p>“Yeah. I know. But I would have got absolutely insane - that man already dotes on me when I’m not feeling like death. I’m fine with him not being here - I really do miss him though.” </p><p>“Two weeks! In two weeks, he’ll be back and you’ll be back into your little house just down the street.” </p><p>“Thank goodness. I’m sure you’ll be sick of us by then.” </p><p>“Cold day in hell when I get sick of you.” Az laughed. </p><p>“Plus, I like it better this way. That it’s you, you know?”</p><p>“What?” Az looked confused.</p><p>“That you get to see this. You were there when I got diagnosed and you were there when I really fought through the worst of it at the start...I think you deserve to see the end of it.” </p><p>Az sipped his coffee, thinking. “Yeah, I suppose there is a rather full circle sense to it. But I wouldn’t have minded - Dave, all I care about is that you’re okay.”</p><p>“And I am...”</p><p>“Daddy? Uncle Dave?” Maya’s quiet voice interrupted them. And both men turned to see Az and Alicia’s nine year old daughter standing in the hallway, watching them. She was dressed in a pair of pajamas covered with images of the superhero Storm - Az had declared it a PJ day, so everyone in the house had to wear pajamas. Maya loved those days. Although she made fun of his dorky Berkeley pajamas.</p><p>“Yeah babydoll?” Az turned in his chair to face her. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>She scowled at the nickname - and he knew he’d hear, later, all about how she felt too much like a little kid when he used it. “Jake woke up - he’d dropped his stuffed monkey, I gave it back to him, but I think he wants to get up - can I bring him downstairs for you?” </p><p>Dave gave her a small salute, “Thanks darling. Sure - you can bring him in here, if you like.” </p><p>The little girl smiled and said, in a way that often mirrored Az’s regular helpful tone, “Na, I’ll do some coloring with him.” </p><p>Az blew her a kiss, “Thanks baby. I love you.” </p><p>“Love you too, dad. Love you Uncle Dave!” She turned and disappeared, they heard her thumping up the stairs. </p><p>Az turned back to Dave. “That little girl loves your Jake.” </p><p>“And he loves her.” He paused for a moment, “I think my son might have to put up with his daddy snuggling him a lot later.”</p><p>“He never seems to mind.” </p><p>“No, he doesn’t. He misses his papa though.” Dave frowned, thoughtful. He reached out and grabbed Az’s book, “Fanon huh? Remember when you couldn’t stop quoting him? Every single situation, you had a quote ready to go.” </p><p>“I still do that, it just happens more in my head now.” Az pointed at the book Dave was reading, “You’re reading my last book.” </p><p>“Yeah, I really like this one. It’s very gay.” </p><p>“Well, it is all about gay black identity in rural America - so kind of what you went through growing up back home, minus being black I guess. It was a weird book to write!” </p><p>Dave opened Az’s book, he traced his fingers across the words on the dedication page. “Mostly, I just like the dedication. And you interviewing me was really weird. So, why the trip down memory lane today?” </p><p>Az picked up the Fanon and flipped through the pages. As he did, a photograph fell out of the book and fluttered to the table. Dave picked it up.  </p><p>It was of the two of them, at seven years old, playing football in Dave’s backyard. </p><p>Dave laughed. “Oh fuck! Remember when we used to play football?”<br/><br/>Az took the photo and smiled. “I do. I love this picture - I forgot I used it as a bookmark for a while - seems fitting it was in this book” </p><p>“Yeah? Why’s that?”</p><p>Az shook his head, smiling as he thought about freshman year and everything that he’d discovered about himself. Everything that led him back to Dave. That led him to help and guide and save Dave...who had helped, guided and saved him in turn. “Did I ever tell you about how this book and this photo were a big part of what got me to change?”</p><p>“No - well, a little. I mean, you’ve told me a lot about how you changed. Mostly, how Alicia really helped with that.”</p><p>“Mmhmm. She did - but it was so much more than that.”  </p><p>“Do you want to tell me now?” </p><p>Az looked out the window, his eyes were unfocused. And just like that, he was back in Ohio, sitting on that grassy expanse outside the main library at OSU, listening to other black students talk about their classes. He was looking at the absolute perfection of a woman who would later become his wife and the mother to his daughter - and maybe a son, or another daughter, in six months. He was back there - thinking about his friend. </p><p>A friend he’d been sure he had lost - lost because of his own ignorance and bigotry. But that friend had just been waiting - patiently - for Az to reach out and extend an offer of friendship again. A friend, who in the darkest moment of his life, found light and love in Az. </p><p>And layered over that memory - like a double-exposed photograph - a different future was revealed. A future where that test had been negative. Where Dave walked away from Az at the end of that day, going back to New York, back to a world that had nothing to do with Az. There would have been no visits to Ohio - no gradual rebuilding of the trust and love between them. There would have been no Thanksgiving dinner with Paul and Sandra, an event that brought a precious father figure back into Az’s life. Az would not have encouraged Dave to go after his MCAT and apply to med-school. Instead Dave would have had an uninspiring career at a sports agency, and he certainly wouldn’t have had a hand in changing the world. And Dave would not have encouraged Az to actually work through his anxiety and apply to UCLA or Harvard - just a middling position as a history teacher in Ohio- alone. And Alicia - the love of his life - she would have gone off to Harvard, also alone, eventually ending them with a late night phone call.</p><p>It was a future that was not filled with weddings, or children, or cross country flights to be there when they needed each other the most. It was a future without Kurt, Mr. K, Sandara, Az’s mom, Maya, Jake, Ken or Alicia...it was a future without Dave and Az. It was a future unfulfilled - void of the snapshots Az and Dave held so dear. </p><p>And for a moment, Az realized just how essential they had been for each other for the past eighteen years. How essential everything that happened really was - they were where they were because of each other. They had saved each other. </p><p>“Az? Where’d you go, brother?”  </p><p>He turned to Dave, a small smile on his face and said, “I’ve always blamed Fanon for everything that happened. But maybe...maybe it was all because of you and me. You know? That everything happened - I changed in the way that I did because I knew you’d needed me to be there. And you helped give me the courage and strength to do everything I’ve done.”</p><p>“That’s a lot to put on both of  us you know. I’m not that strong…”</p><p>“Dave, you’re the strongest guy I know.” </p><p>Dave laughed, then winced as something clearly hurt him. “And you’re the smartest guy I know. So, tell me - tell me everything. Tell me, then I’ll order us dinner - because fuck cooking - and tonight, I’ll call my husband and tell him how much I love him and our son. And you'll tell your wife and daughter how much you love them. And...then let’s just keep livin our lives, together.”</p><p>Az laughed. But he did - he talked so long that Alicia came home and sat at the table with them. He talked so long that Maya and Jack joined them - at a table filled with Chinese food take out containers. Az talked - he unfolded the piles of snapshots of their lives together. And as he talked, Dave listened - his body slowly breaking down and expunging the remnants  of a virus that had been the catalyst for their coming together again. And as they sat there, traveling the discourses of change and becoming, their hands drifted together, clasped over the words on a dedication page.</p><p>
  <em> For Dave. My Brother. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Image by the phenomenal StarKurt (https://starkurt.tumblr.com/post/627967005760389120/starkurts-fall-2020-commission-info-full-terms)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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